


Wanting More

by Highlander_II



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, BDSM, Bisexual Harvey Specter, Bisexual Mike Ross, Brothels, Cameos, F/M, M/M, Multiple Pairings, Multiple Partners, Oral Sex, Pegging, Prostate Massage, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Club, Sexual Slavery, Slow Burn, Vaginal Sex, semi-annonymous sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:01:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 46,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22343008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Highlander_II/pseuds/Highlander_II
Summary: Jessica Pearson and Daniel Hardman run a brothel where Harvey, Louis, Rachel and others work. Donna is one of Harvey's regular and best clients. Mike, trying to escape an incredibly unpleasant living arrangement with Trevor, goes to the brothel one night. He's assigned to see Harvey because of his referral from another client; he almost changes his mind to see Rachel instead, but she's not available. It turns out, he doesn't mind so much, because he prefers Harvey.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen & Mike Ross, Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter, Harvey Specter & Rachel Zane, Harvey Specter/Other(s), Jessica Pearson & Harvey Specter, Louis Litt & Mike Ross, Mike Ross/Harvey Specter, Rachel Zane/Other(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for the Slow Burn Big Bang in 2017 (I think), but the challenge sort of fizzled away. So, this is that fic.

"As you can see," Louis began as they walked through the foyer into what looked like a sitting room, "we have quite the stable of beauties here. You can generally have your pick, but if you ask for something one of them just won't do, you'll have to find someone else who will." He stopped next to a portrait of himself on the wall and Mike tried not to give him an odd look. "Now, are you looking for male or female companionship this evening?"

Mike almost missed the question – that damned portrait was distracting. No, not the one of Louis, the other one. The one that looked as though it could see into the deepest part of your soul and might never let go. It was a little disorienting. "Uh – male," he answered.

Louis nodded knowingly. "Come with me. I know just the one for you." He started through the sitting room and down a hallway. "Now, Harvey is very talented – almost as talented as me – but he's expensive. Are you sure you have the cash to handle this?"

Mike nodded. "Yeah. I'm set." He followed, but kept looking around at the paintings on the walls. That's how he spotted the stunning brunette with a sexy smile. She was gorgeous. He almost changed his mind about who he wanted to be with tonight. Almost.

"Nope," Louis said as though he'd been reading Mike's mind. "She's not available for first-time clients."

"Why not?" Mike asked with a frown. "Is she better than Harvey?" Not that he knew anything about Harvey either, other than what Louis had told him.

"No," Louis sneered. "She's still training, so to speak."

Mike didn't know what that meant, but he wasn't going to ask. Louis was sort of creeping him out. He'd thought about leaving three times already. "But you put your best man on first-time clients?" Mike countered.

"What? Of course not." Louis sneered at him again. Mike wasn't sure if he was offended that there had been an implication that Harvey was the best or if he just liked the fact that Mike was wrong. "See, you have a recommendation from a long-time client. Which means, the boss doesn't want to upset whoever referred you." Louis' tone of voice indicated that he was not a fan of new clients getting special treatment, but he didn't make the rules. "So," he continued, "you get to see Harvey. If you can pay for it."

"Do you just want my money now so you can stop worrying that I'm going to stiff you?"

"Yes, actually," Louis said with an eager nod.

Mike smirked. "As soon as I see Harvey, I'll hand it over."

"Well, see, that would be fine, but I'm going to have you sit on that couch right there to wait for him because he's in with a client. So, you'll have to give it to me now, because I'm not waiting. I have important things to do."

"Louis, don't be a dick," a new voice said from behind a door-frame up ahead.

"What? You were with a client."

"Were," the new man said. "Now stop being an asshole and show the kid in."

Louis sighed, exasperated, but waved a hand for Mike to enter the room in question. Louis lurked close behind Mike, clearly ready to snatch the money the minute Mike handed it over.

Mike entered the room and stopped short. The naked man stretched out on the bed was the soul-piercing man from the portrait downstairs. Mike's heart nearly choked him. It took him a moment to find words. In fact, before he could think about words, he pulled a stack of cash from a pocket and handed it to Louis. "Close the door on your way out," he said without taking his eyes off the long, lean form of the man on the bed.

Louis grunted in disdain at being told what to do, but he closed the door the moment the money was in his hands.

"I'm Harvey. You must be Mike," the glorious piece of flesh on the bed said to him. Mike gave his head a rattle to clear his thoughts. He needed to stop thinking of this man as just a piece of meat.

"Yeah. Mike," he said and wished he was much quicker on the draw than that.

Harvey smiled at him and it was just as wicked as the smirk in the painting downstairs. "So, Mike, what is it that I can do for you tonight?"

As much as he'd planned what he wanted, he hadn't expected someone who looked like Harvey. He hadn't expected to be this affected by the person he'd been assigned either. "Um -" he began, articulate as ever. "I'm really just interested in a blow job."

Harvey nodded. "I think we can work something out." He swung his legs over the side of the bed, then patted the mattress beside his hip. "Why don't you come sit down and you can tell me what, specifically, you want."

Mike sat, clothed, next to the naked man. "I just want someone to suck my cock."

"Nobody pays for someone like me just to get their cock sucked, Mike," Harvey said. "What are you looking for?"

"It's personal," Mike said.

Harvey shrugged. "It's your money." Then he slid to his knees on the plush rug beneath the bed and smoothed his hands up and over Mike's thighs. "Is it okay if I undo your pants, Mike?"

"Uh yeah, sure."

"Relax, Mike. You're going to get exactly what you asked for." Harvey's hands moved quickly to the waistband of Mike's pants. He unfastened the fly and tugged the pants open. His warm hand reached in to rub against Mike's cock through his shorts. "Did you want to take off your pants?"

Mike shook his head. "No. I just want this," he said with a sigh at the feel of Harvey's hand against him. He rocked his hips into that heat. "Please," he begged softly.

"What are you looking for, Mike?" Harvey asked again. "What problem are you trying to solve."

"No questions. You've been paid. Just do what I want." He didn't want to talk about why he was here. About all of the things that had gone so terribly wrong with his life that had led him here. He was looking for a sort of solace. For some place to be without judgment or decisions. He'd made the one decision and that was all he wanted to do tonight.

Harvey nodded. Then his mouth, hot and wet, engulfed Mike's cock. He was almost disappointed until Harvey drew back and slid his tongue smoothly around the head, teasing him. He took a deep breath and relaxed. Every movement of Harvey's mouth, tongue and lips was obviously designed to drive him absolutely insane with the need to come without actually finishing him off.

It lasted somewhere in the neighborhood of fifteen goddamned minutes. And by the time his orgasm hit, he wasn't sure he knew his own name. When he blinked his eyes open, he was looking up at the ornate ceiling and not sure why. But he felt so damned good, he really didn't care. Peering down his body, he saw Harvey, still kneeling on the floor, dragging a finger through the mess on his own chest.

"Disappointed I didn't swallow?" Harvey asked, finger sliding around a nipple.

Mike rocked his head back and forth. "I knew about that. I just didn't... I've never – Jesus Christ, Harvey..."

Harvey grinned wickedly at him. A ghost of that smoldering, through-your-soul look from the portrait he saw downstairs.

"You said I would get exactly what I asked for," Mike said, still panting to catch his breath.

"I did. And I delivered."

Mike nodded. "So, I guess now you tell me to get out?"

Harvey chuckled. "No. Take your time. There's a bathroom if you need to clean up," he said and pointed toward the slightly open door behind him. 

"Thanks." Mike got up, slowly, from the bed and crossed to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and leaned on the sink basin for a moment. The blow job had been incredible, but now he was having second thoughts about how good an idea this was. Was he doing this just to get away from Trevor? Or to stop thinking about Jenny? Or was he doing this for some other reason? True, he was using it as an escape; he just wasn't sure what he was escaping anymore.

When he finished cleaning up and stepped back into the bedroom, Harvey was reclined on the bed, looking relaxed and satisfied. Mike found himself only slightly disappointed that Harvey had cleaned the come off his chest. His eyes drifted to the thick cock between Harvey's legs before he forced them to focus back on the man's face.

Harvey was grinning a shit-eating grin. He'd caught Mike looking at him again. "You can touch me if you want," he said.

That shook Mike out of his momentary stupor. "Um -" he began and bit his lip for a second. "Is it okay if we just talk for a bit?"

"Sure," Harvey said, shifting over on the bed to give Mike space. Then, when Mike hesitated, he added, "Look, I don't bite unless you ask – and it costs extra – and you're free to stand over there and talk to me for the rest of your hour, but the bed is pretty comfortable. And, if you want me to put clothes on, I can do that too."

Mike folded his arms across his chest and was quiet for a moment. "I'm trying to get out of my own head for a while." He shrugged as he finished

Harvey waved a hand, beckoning Mike toward the bed. "Come here. We can talk. Or you can just sit."

It took him another few seconds to convince himself, but he crossed the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. Quietly, he said, "Can you just – talk to me?"

"Sure. Anything you want me to talk about?"

He shook his head. "Something interesting, I guess."

Harvey chuckled a little. "Okay. Do you like movies?"

Mike nodded. Then Harvey talked to him about movies for thirty minutes. And not just recent ones either. He knew about classics and indies and pre-codes. Mike was about to ask him more about the pre-code movies – which he hadn't had much experience with before this – when Harvey indicated his time was almost up.

"Oh," Mike said, "any chance I can extend my time?"

Harvey smiled down at him where he was laying in the man's lap. "Usually, I would say absolutely, but I have another client waiting."

"Right."

"But, if you want to stick around, I'm sure we can work something out for after."

Mike rocked his head back and forth. "Thanks. Maybe I'll come back another day. Thanks again." He sat up and smoothed out his clothes before heading for the door.

* * *

Harvey knew Mike hadn't seen the sudden, sneaky visitor. Mike probably didn't even realize that the door may not have latched properly when Louis closed it. Harvey knew she was there the same way he always did – by her faint perfume and her presence. He didn't stop what he was doing. He was busy. He was sucking his client's cock, hand curled around the shaft while his tongue worked the head. It was wet and sloppy and attentive, just like his client had asked for.

His client – Mike – lifted his hips, rocking into Harvey's mouth. Mike moaned, his head tipped back, his eyes closed. Obviously enjoying what he was paying for. Though, he didn't act like the standard clients. He hadn't walked in demanding Harvey get on his knees and worship his cock. He hadn't ordered Harvey around. He asked for what he wanted, waited for Harvey to agree, then sat down on the bed to enjoy his 'purchase'. For the time being, Mike had the benefit of the doubt. It's the kid's first time. Harvey could tell, but that didn't mean that the next time he'd be as polite and not entitled. Harvey had seen that happen before too.

For a brief moment, Harvey opened his eyes and peeked up at Donna, still leaning languidly in the doorway. She smiled at him and licked her lips. Clearly she liked what she saw. Harvey thought she might want to join in, but his client was new, so he didn't know him well enough to determine how he'd take to that. Closing his eyes again, he focused fully on his task. He was vaguely aware of Donna slipping away from the door and pulling it quietly closed as he finished off his client's blow job.

The client was appreciative of his work. Breathless on the bed and smiling at the ceiling. Harvey sat back on his heels, pleased with himself and waiting patiently. While Mike was cleaning up in the bathroom, Harvey cleaned himself off, then settled on the bed.

He knew Mike thought he was getting special treatment because of the referral from McKernon. That wasn't the case. Harvey treated all of his clients with the respect they deserved. It wasn't always the respect they _wanted_ , but that wasn't Harvey's problem.

Something was off about this kid though. Harvey was pretty sure he'd been holding onto the referral for months before he'd decided to use it tonight. Something was going on in this kid's life, but he didn't seem interested in talking about it. That was okay by Harvey too. He could talk if that's what Mike wanted.

He felt bad for the guy. And he would've let him stick around if not for his standing appointment with his next client.

"Come back whenever you'd like," Harvey said as Mike was leaving. Harvey slid into the bathroom to go through his post-client routine and slip into his next client's requested outfit for the night.

Standing before the full-length mirror, Harvey smoothed the collar of his jacket and made sure his tie was straight. It was a really nice suit. He kind of wished he had more reason to wear it. But, he would settle for the few times Donna wanted him to dress in clean, pressed Tom Ford.

"I don't know why she has you put that thing on, she's just going to strip you out of it in ten minutes anyway," he heard Louis huff from the door.

"Because I look awesome," Harvey fired back. "People like what they like, Louis," he said, clearly indicating that he meant no one liked Louis.

Louis snorted. "Whatever you say, pretty boy. She's waiting for you downstairs."

Harvey turned from the mirror. "I know. Get out of my room."

Donna was leaning against the mantel, talking to the boss lady, as Harvey descended the stairs. His boss was a stunning woman with dark skin and darker hair. A contrast to the fair-skinned redhead that was his client.

His boss – Jessica Pearson – had plucked him off the street, cleaned him up, and turned him into a high-priced whore. A word he gladly threw around as a descriptor of himself. He knew what he was. He also knew he was good at it. One of the best in the city.

"Jessica," he greeted as he approached the ladies by the fireplace. He leaned in to give Jessica a chaste kiss. "What brings you out of the ivory tower?"

She smiled her 'I'm going to get annoyed with you' smile at him and answered, "I wanted to mingle with the common people. Let them see my face."

"Lucky day for them," he said.

"If you weren't in such high demand, Harvey..."

Harvey grinned his cocky grin back at her. "You know you love me."

"Don't push it."

Donna, who had been watching the entire exchange in muted amusement, rested a hand on Harvey's arm. "Now, now, don't get yourself fired before I have a chance to get what I paid for."

Harvey tipped his head toward the stairs. "Let's go before Mom grounds me."

He led Donna up to his room, her delicate, pale hand resting on his arm in stark contrast to his deep blue suit. The dress she wore was exquisite. Clearly some high-end, New York or Italian designer. (Fashion wasn't really his thing.) He didn't care who made her clothes. He was far more interested in how they looked on her. And she always looked amazing.

"What is the theme tonight?" he asked her as he pushed the door closed behind them.

Donna turned and pressed him against the door. She dragged her tongue over his jaw. "I want you to do what I tell you," she rumbled at him.

A warm shiver ran down his spine. Most of his clients expected the same thing. But Donna, she wanted something a little different. And he loved it when she wanted to play this way. She was the only client he played these games with. They'd built a strong trust over the years and he was comfortable with her.

"Same rules as last time," he whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

Mike stopped at an all night coffee shop, not far from the brothel, to avoid going home. He wasn't ready to face Trevor yet. He wasn't sure he would ever go back there at all now that he'd finally torn himself away.

He might miss Jenny. He liked her. She was always nice to him. She didn't seem to know about Trevor. Or, maybe she did, and never did anything to stop him. If that were true, that would be worse. Knowing that she could have done something, but looked the other way would feel like a huge betrayal. He didn't want to think about that.

The barista brought him another coffee. He gave her a small smile. She seemed to understand that he wanted to be alone and turned, without a word, to go back to her station. Mike wasn't sure how long he'd been at the shop. It had been late when he came in. He figured it was probably only a couple hours after midnight at this point.

The bell over the door jingled for the first time since he'd walked in. He glanced up from his mug to see the stunning redhead from the brothel. He kept his gaze focused on his coffee to keep himself from staring at her. He'd seen her as he was leaving from his appointment with Harvey. She'd caught his attention, but he couldn't quite figure out if he knew her from somewhere or if he just found her that damned attractive. However, he knew there was no reason she would want to have anything to do with him.

Maybe he was wrong. She walked over and sat herself in the empty chair across from him. He heard the slight rustle of her dress when she crossed her legs. Her voice was gentle and even when she said, "Hey, sailor, you look a little down."

"I'm not for sale," Mike muttered into his cup without looking up at her. He wanted to. She was beautiful. But he also wanted to be left alone.

The redhead laughed. She folded her hands on the table. "No. You're not. You are cute though. It's good I'm not in the market."

Now he did look up at her. "Then why are you here?"

"I'm getting a coffee."

"No, I mean, at my table," he growled.

Patiently, she responded, "Like I said, you look a little down. Wanna talk about it?" His mood didn't seem to be scaring her away.

"No."

The woman flashed a smile at the barista when she brought her coffee over. Her smile had far more sparkle than Mike's had. Then, Donna turned her attention back to Mike. "Roommate troubles, huh?"

Stunned, Mike blinked at her across the table. "How'd you..."

"Honey, you've been sitting in an all-night coffee shop after a visit to the best little whorehouse in the city, clearly there's trouble at home."

"Or I work the night shift and today's my day off."

"Only if you went to a funeral." She paused for his reaction. "You're wearing a suit. Tie included. Not really third shift attire."

"It's a really formal call center?"

The redhead laughed again. Genuine and bright. It made Mike smile a little. "You're cute, kid. But, really, you wanna talk about it?"

Mike shrugged. "Maybe. But not in a coffee shop."

Donna angled her head toward the door. They both rose from their chairs and left the coffee shop. For a moment Mike wondered if they'd be walking to Donna's place, but she called for a ride and it took them to her place over in The Village. He recognized a couple clubs they passed on the ride over. He'd been over here before.

They pulled up in front of a row of brick buildings. Donna motioned for Mike to get out of the car with her. He followed her up the front stoop of one of the buildings and waited while she unlocked the main door. Another couple flights of stairs and they were at her apartment. She unlocked the door and let Mike in.

She flicked on a few lights and dropped her keys into the basket by the door. She motioned toward the couch as she plucked her shoes off. Her feet padded softly against the tile of the kitchen as she got them both a drink and returned to the living room.

Sitting in a chair nearby after handing Mike his drink, she pushed a hand through her hair and asked, "So, what's going on with your roommate, Mike?" She lifted her glass to her lips and took a sip.

Mike frowned, drink hovering near his mouth. "I never told you my name." He lowered the glass.

"You didn't have to."

"Then how - "

"It's what I do," she said with a knowing grin. "I'm good at these sorts of things. Now, we can keep talking about me – which I don't mind, I love talking about me – or we can get back to solving your problem."

"Do I get to know your name?"

"I'm Donna. We good?"

Mike sighed heavily into the couch, still pondering his drink. "Yeah. Okay." He took a deep breath and tried not to drain his drink in one go. "My roommate – one of them – is kind of an asshole."

Donna didn't say anything. She waited for him to keep going. She knew he wanted to and she was ready to let him.

"He – he's – well, he's mean. Selfish. Demanding. Degrading. He humiliates me..."

"Wait," Donna stopped him. "Why are you still friends with this guy?" She saw Mike's face fall. "Nevermind. Sorry I asked that. You've been friends forever, right? Grew up together. Something happened and you think you owe him something." It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

Mike gave her the strangest look. "How do you know all of this? Have you been stalking me?"

"I told you. I'm Donna. And I haven't been stalking you. I've been reading you."

"Is that good or bad?"

Donna smiled. "It's good. Because I'm going to offer you my guest room. At least for the night.

"Oh, you don't have to do that. I'll be fine."

"Mike - "

"Really, I don't want to impose or put you out or whatever."

Donna's lips quirked up into a smile. "If I offer, it's none of those things. C'mon. You look like you need a night to yourself. There's a lock on the door and everything."

* * *

Donna gave him a quick tour of the apartment – living room, kitchen, the bedrooms and the guest bath. Satisfied he knew where things were, she told him goodnight and slipped into her room. He wasn't quite ready to sleep yet, so he browsed the books on the shelves in her living room.

Lots of plays, a few classics, a couple cheesy romance novels and one _Star Trek_ tie-in novel that looked as though the cover hadn't even been cracked. That one was a gift from someone who was close, but didn't know her well. Or someone gave it to her as a joke. It clearly didn't match anything else on her bookcase. But she kept it, so it meant something to her.

Still bored, he wandered back to the guest room. He thought about taking a shower. Then, he remembered the feeling of Harvey's mouth on his cock. It was attentive without being withdrawn. Harvey had a way of focusing just on Mike without it feeling fake or forced. The man liked his job. And, despite Mike having been the guest of a powerful client, Harvey didn't seem to be trying to impress him. The only goal was to make sure Mike was satisfied. That he had gotten what he wanted.

Mike had liked that. He'd liked that a lot.

He leaned back on the bed and unfastened his pants. It was a little weird to do this in a stranger's house, but he couldn't stop thinking about the way Harvey had made him feel. He drew his cock from his shorts and began stroking himself. Long, slow strokes, up and down his shaft. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes. Imagined Harvey leaning over him, his tongue curling around the head of Mike's cock.

Mike moaned, having already forgotten where he was, and moved his hand faster. He went through a whole scenario in his mind of Harvey working him up, teasing him slowly into a frenzy. Mike's hand moved with the images in his mind until he came all over his shirt and fingers.

He wiped his hand off on his already ruined shirt, blinked at the ceiling twice, then fell asleep.

* * *

A small sliver of sunlight slashed across his right eye. He groaned and threw an arm over his face, trying to go back to sleep. An hour later, he bolted awake thinking he was late to work. He patted around his clothes for his phone. Saturday. Fine. He wasn't late. He could just lay here and try to go back to sleep again.

But where was 'here'?

He sat up and looked around the room. Nothing looked familiar. At all. What the hell had happened? He rubbed his hands over his face and tried not to panic.

Last night. Last night he'd gone to the brothel. Right. Harvey. Blow job. Coffee shop.

Coffee. Coffee. The redhead... had kidnapped him and locked him in this room. His spinning head began to slow and clear. No. Not kidnapped. She offered him a place to stay for the night.

Away from Trevor.

Trevor.

_Shit._

Trevor was going to be pissed.

Mike dragged himself out of bed and ducked into the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, he quickly tried to flatten his hair and straighten his clothes. It wasn't working, but he couldn't wait. He left the bathroom, opened the bedroom door, and headed for the exit.

At the edge of the kitchen, Donna stopped him. "You want some coffee?"

"Huh? No. I really gotta go." He started moving again.

"Freeze," Donna ordered and Mike's whole body locked up. "Hey – Mike, are you okay?"

He couldn't move. His feet wouldn't obey his brain. Donna shouldn't scare him like that, but her voice, that word, it set off a chain reaction in his head. He literally couldn't do anything other than stay where he was.

"Mike?" Donna asked softly, suddenly much closer than she had been. "Mike, are you okay? Why don't you come sit on the couch?"

"Please," he said, voice strained. "Please, I need to go. He – I – please..."

Donna very lightly touched his shoulder. "Mike, we should talk. At the very least, you should get a shower and change your clothes."

"Huh?"

She gave him a soft smile. "You're wrinkled and covered in come. It's okay, I think I have something you can wear."

Mike shook his head. "No, you don't understand. I'm already in trouble. If I stay it'll be worse. _Please_ ," Mike begged.

Donna blinked at him, but her face didn't give him any more than that. "No. It won't," she stated flatly. "You can stay here as long as you need. And he won't be able to bother you."

"Thank you," Mike began. "I know what you're offering. But I can't. Please."

"Mike, you're not a prisoner here. You can leave whenever you like. But you do have options. And, you'll probably want that shower. Maybe even breakfast."

He visibly relaxed, but was still ready to sprint out the door. "The messy shirt is actually better. I look like I slept in the park." Regarding breakfast, he said, "Maybe some other time. I really do need to go."

"Okay," Donna nodded, and he could see the reluctance. "Here's my card. Call me if you need anything." She handed him a business card, simple white with black text, containing her name and a pair of phone numbers.

"Thanks," he said, accepting the card. He tucked it into a pocket, barely glancing at it, but committing the information to memory without even trying. "And thank you for last night. I needed it."

Then he slipped out the door and took the stairs down to the lobby. He had the doorman call him a cab. He made sure he had enough cash before he got in for the ride back to Trevor's. He'd hate to get stuck stiffing a cabbie. He didn't need more people pissed off at him.

* * *

Several blocks down the road, Mike asked the driver to pull over. He paid and got out. The cabbie didn't seem thrilled, but didn't give him any shit.

Mike stood on the sidewalk for several minutes. This was at least fifteen blocks from Trevor's apartment. He wasn't sure why he got out of the cab here. But, he knew he didn't want to go back to Trevor. Not just today. Not ever.

He thought about calling Donna. He could go back to her place. But that felt like a defeat. For now, he would hide out in the little café-deli down the block from where he got out. It was a quaint little place on the corner that came equipped with a goth barista, a wannabe hippie, a couple millennials, and a lost bodega cat.

Staring at the few bills from his pocket, he scoured the board for something he could afford. He settled on the old standby – coffee – and sent up a silent thanks that he had, at least, managed to tuck in his shirt. He didn't look quite as much like a drunk who spent the night on a bench.

He and his coffee found a seat tucked in a corner. He was kicking himself for skipping Donna's offered breakfast. His stomach was unhappy at being empty.

Going back to Trevor's would get him food. Probably. Unless Trevor decided to use food denial as a punishment. Which, he probably would. One more reason why it was better for him not to go back. God, how had he gotten himself into such a damned mess?

At Donna's, he had been so sure he needed to get back 'home'. It was like a calling. Like there was a homing device lodged in his brain driving him. It wasn't until he had been sitting in the back of that cab that he realized it actually _was_ a sort of 'programming' that compelled him to go back. He wasn't going there because it was where he belonged. He was going because that's what he'd been told he was supposed to do. By Trevor. For years. After going to the brothel (and that amazing blow job from Harvey) and talking with Donna, he realized he was letting Trevor be his 'free will', rather than exercising it on his own. No more.

He was focused on his own thoughts and didn't hear the man speaking to him at first. He looked up. "I'm sorry?" And he realized it was the Money Guy from the brothel. What the hell did he want?

"I asked if you had eaten breakfast yet," clearly a repeated question. "You look like a stray cat."

"Not yet," Mike answered, though he couldn't think of a single reason why this man would even care.

"You want something?"

"No, it's okay. I'll be fine."

The man scoffed. "You look like you were hit by a truck. And you only have two dollars to your name. It's not good for business for my clients to look miserable after visiting my establishment. Let me buy you breakfast."

First a stray cat, then hit by a truck? How bad did he look? "Well, after that highly insulting explanation, how could I refuse?" Mike responded, full of snark. Though he did manage not to be pedantic and point out that the business wasn't Money Guy's and that he wasn't Money Guy's client.

"What?" Money Guy asked. "Look, do you want something or not?"

Mike didn't really have much choice. Unless he liked being hungry. "Uh, yeah, sure. Get me a bagel?" He hated being a burden on other people and never wanted to appear to be taking advantage of them. A bagel was the simplest thing he could think of.

Money Guy smirked and stormed off to the counter. He came back several minutes later with a tray full of stuff. He put the tray on the table and sat down. "Eat up," he said, waving at the tray.

"Uh – thanks?" Mike looked at all the food in front of him. It was a lot. Bagels, eggs, bacon, sausage, juice, milk, and – are those pancakes? "Are you serious, man?"

"Yes. Eat."

For nearly an hour, Mike worked on the spread before him. He took his time. He needed to pack away as much as he could. His next meal might not be for a day or so. He didn't say much. Turns out that was okay. Money Guy (who he finally remembered was named Louis) talked at him for the whole hour.

Mike wasn't really listening though. He was far more interested in the food. Hell, he didn't even pretend to be interested. He was too hungry. Though he did pick up that the brothel was run by someone named Jessica and that there was a B&B attached to it, but he didn't quite get how the two went together. He was too busy shoving pancakes into his face.

There was one thing Louis said that caught his attention. "...extra room at my place – if you don't mind cats – 'cause you look like you could use a place to stay for a while."

Mike lowered the glass of juice he'd been drinking and wondered if there was a sign on his forehead reading 'homeless kitten'. "I'm not for sale, you know that?"

Louis laughed. "Of course not. You're not my type anyway. But, you are a friend of one of our biggest clients. So, putting you up keeps them happy. What'd'ya say?"

He wasn't sure how much sway he had with Avery McKernon, but he wasn't against using that tiny bit of influence to his advantage. He didn't want to say 'yes' to Louis' offer, but he needed a shower and a change of clothes, at least. And, oddly, the idea of staying with Louis felt less awkward than staying with Donna. Though, he couldn't pinpoint exactly why.

"What's the rent? Because, I'm sort of between jobs at the moment." He still had the bike messenger gig, but it didn't pay great, and he hadn't found anything new since he'd gotten fired from the doughnut place after missing too many days in a row because of some of Trevor's friends.

"We'll work that out later..."

"No dice, man. Terms up front or I'm out."

Louis made a displeased face, but relented. "Fine. You cook and clean and take care of Bruno, you get a room and your own bathroom."

"Who's Bruno?" He wanted to avoid another Trevor situation.

"Bruno is my cat."

Right. Louis had mentioned something about needing to like cats back at the beginning of this oddball conversation. "Got it. Maid service and cat sitting. I'm in."

Louis didn't seem thrilled with Mike's short-hand, but the terms seemed to meet with his approval. He even let Mike finish eating breakfast before hustling him out the door. Louis flagged down a cab and got into the back, leaving the door open for Mike to slide in alongside him.

"I swear I don't bite. Come on. You can have a look at the place and make your final decision."

Maybe Louis wasn't as brusque as he'd initially thought. Mike got into the cab and closed the door.


	3. Chapter 3

Jenny pushed the door closed behind her and dropped her keys into the nearby dish. "He still not back?" she asked Trevor. He was sitting on the couch, beer in hand, staring at his phone. Clearly he was expecting to force it to notify him of Mike's whereabouts with harsh glares.

"No," Trevor groaned. Snarled really. Mike had gone to work yesterday morning and had an appointment late last night. But they had expected him back already. Trevor needed him back for tonight.

"I'm sorry," she said as she dropped down onto the couch next to him. "Has he called or texted at all?" She leaned in to brush a kiss to his cheek, then dropped a hand into his dark hair, ruffling it slightly.

Trevor shook his head. "No. Nothing." He let out a breath that sounded like a growl. "I'm going to have to go find him." He made a point of going through all of his contact applications on his phone – text, voicemail, social media, e-mail – obviously there was nothing new since the last time.

Voice quiet, fingers still toying with his hair, Jenny asked, "Why don't you give him a couple days? Let him come back on his own." Mike didn't typically stay away long. Maybe he had been too tired to make his way home last night. Maybe he'd met someone and stayed with them. Maybe he'd gotten up and started making deliveries early. It wasn't time to worry about him being missing or having run away.

He glared at her. "I'm not going to do that." He got up from the couch. "I need him for tonight."

Jenny sighed, her hand dropping to the back of the couch. "I think your poker buddies will be fine without Mike."

"I have to go look for him." He stalked out of the apartment, phone clutched in his hand, leaving Jenny blinking after him.

She picked up her phone from the table and made a few calls to friends she thought might have seen Mike. Maybe she could find him first and have him back home before Trevor returned.

* * *

"Look, Louis, I don't care about your new boyfriend," Harvey said, more attention focused on his reflection while he was shaving than on anything Louis was saying.

Louis scoffed. "He's not my boyfriend. He's my roommate."

"Fine," Harvey said and splashed water on his face. "But why do I give a shit?"

"Why?" Louis let out a mirthless chuckle. "Because he's your client from the other night."

Harvey looked at Louis via the mirror, brows bent downward. "Which client?" He rinsed his face again, getting the last remnants of shaving foam from his skin

"The young lippy one."

Harvey rose to his full height, patting his face dry with a towel. "Why is he your roommate?"

Louis smirked, convinced Harvey was terminally stupid. "I found him in a deli huddling over a cup of coffee and his last two dollars like a lost kitten."

"So, of course, you took him home," Harvey said as he lowered the towel from his face.

"Harvey, the kid was starving and had nowhere to go."

"I'm not saying you shouldn't have taken him in. I'm saying that I shouldn't have to listen to you talk about it. Essentially, I'm still asking why I give a shit."

Louis scoffed again. "Um – client. Friend of an even bigger client. Ring any bells?"

"Louis, I sucked the kid's dick. I didn't propose marriage." He hung the towel on the bar.

Louis snapped his mouth shut as though language like that was uncalled for. Then he wandered off in a huff.

Harvey, satisfied the conversation was over, reached to turn on the shower taps. He stepped in and took a nice, long shower, using the time to think back over that 'kid's' visit. Obviously the guy wasn't a kid, but he seemed so young and so unaware of much of the world. That really was part of the appeal too. Mike's fresh view of everything. Even though he'd seemed so down and in need of affection, Harvey could tell he viewed things with an almost childlike wonder. And he kind of liked that.

When he stepped out of his pleasant, daydream-filled shower, Daniel Hardman was lurking in the doorway. He sighed internally and stood at the bathroom door. "Did you need something, Daniel?" Harvey was sure his contempt was showing.

"Yes. I have a client coming tonight. I'm assigning him to you. Give him whatever he wants. He's important," Hardman answered. He had that tone that clearly stated he wouldn't be taking 'no' for an answer.

"You mean he's paying you a shitload of money." Harvey tucked a towel around his waist, more to prevent Hardman from staring at his cock than any sense of modesty he might have. He stepped in front of the mirror again and pushed his fingers through his hair.

Hardman's smile was slimy. "Yes. He is. Are you going to be a problem for me?"

Harvey glared at Hardman's reflection in the mirror this time. Then, turned around. "My limits are still my limits, Daniel. If your 'important client' is into that extreme shit, send him to Soloff."

"He asked for you."

"The limits are the limits, Daniel," he repeated and turned back to the mirror, effectively dismissing his boss from his presence.

Hardman turned and strode out of Harvey's room without another word. Now Harvey outwardly sighed. He hated most of Hardman's 'special' clients. They were usually assholes or morons. None of them knew how to show respect and all of them were under the impression that they deserved extra special treatment because Hardman was their friend. These clients were the only ones Harvey had to try not to look like he was faking for.

* * *

"Hey, Harvey!" Rachel called to get the man's attention. He stopped and turned to face her, hands tucked in his pockets. "Hey, sorry to bother you, but I was hoping you could help me out."

"Aren't you supposed to ask your mentor, Louis?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Well, I would, but, he kind of gives me the creeps with questions like these."

Harvey took her hand and folded it over the crook of his elbow. "What can I teach you, my child?" he asked, his voice affecting a 'stuffy' quality.

She snorted a giggle at him. "Geez, you're a dork."

He scowled a little. "Do you want my help or not?"

"Sorry. Yes. I wanted to know if you could help me improve a skill." She leaned on his arm, peering up at him with her version of pleading puppy-dog eyes.

He arched an eyebrow at her. "You're a whore, Rachel. You need to be able to say the words."

"Can we say them in this room over here?" she asked, tugging him toward one of the spare rooms. This one wasn't far from hers, and it was done in deep blues with white accents.

He followed her into the room. She pushed the door to, then stretched up to press her mouth to his. He let her kiss him for a moment, enjoying the feel of her mouth on his.

When he pulled back, he asked, "You need me to help you with kissing?"

"No," she purred. "That was just to butter you up." She grinned at him. "So, I get guys who want me to take them with a strap-on. But, I don't know if I'm doing it right."

"Rachel, I'm pretty sure that if you were doing it wrong, they would tell you."

Rachel rolled her eyes a little. "No. I've got the basics – prep work, go slow, moving – but, how do I make it be awesome?"

Harvey blinked at her. "I can teach you, but not as your guinea pig. We'll need someone to bottom for you." He paused a moment, considering some options. "Someone who's okay with an extra person in the room."

"Hardman's client?"

Harvey snorted. "There are several things I'd like to shove up his ass, but no. If he hated it and ran to Hardman, both our lives would be hell." He considered his client list further, mentally scanning for the right person. "Donna would probably do it, but a guy would be better."

"Have anyone in mind?" Rachel asked expectantly.

"Not yet, but I'll find someone."

"Thanks, Harvey," she said with a grin and squeezed his ass. She even had the grace to look a little chagrined with her boldness. Though he didn't appear remotely upset by her actions. Of course he wasn't. The pervy little bastard.

* * *

Harvey tolerated Hardman's shitty client. The guy was boring – he always wanted the same thing. Rather, he asked for the same thing, and Harvey told him 'no' because it was one of the few things Harvey flat-out refused to do, then the client would relent and ask for the boring shit. And Harvey would go through the motions. It would never appear that he was only going through the motions – Harvey was a professional and knew how to play his part – only that he was entertaining his client.

If the douchebag didn't tip amazingly well, Harvey would have told him to fuck off. Hardman's special guest or not. Boring idiots were exactly that – boring idiots.

Harvey got cleaned up and slipped into a robe. He settled on his bed with a magazine he'd been flipping through earlier. His next client wasn't for a couple more hours. Which would definitely explain his surprise when he found Mike lurking in his doorway.

"I know I'm not great at keeping my calendar, but I'm pretty sure I'd remember if we had an appointment," he said, lowering the magazine and peering at the young man standing in the door.

Mike almost laughed. "I – I don't have an appointment. If this – if this is a bad time, I can come back." He turned and started to leave. That was when Harvey noticed that Mike seemed really down, shoulders slumped, head tipped toward the floor.

"No. It's not a bad time. Come on in." Harvey waved Mike into the room. "Come sit. Tell me what you need." Typically, Harvey would tell the client what he knew they needed. It's what he did. It's what made him so great at his job. He knew what Mike needed now, but he wanted Mike to know it too. To admit it.

Mike shrugged, then shuffled to the bed to sit down. He waited for Harvey to close the door and return to the bed. "I – I'm sorry. I don't really have any money. I – I just wanted someone to talk to." Mike looked as though he would get up and bolt out of the room, door be damned.

Harvey rested a hand on Mike's shoulder as he sat next to him on the bed. "Normally, talking costs the same as everything else, but, I'll give you a freebie." Which really meant Harvey would pay for it, but Mike didn't need to know that.

"Thanks, Harvey." Mike looked down at his feet. "I don't really know where to begin."

Harvey didn't say anything. He let Mike gather his thoughts. Mike needed to put his feelings together on his own. Harvey couldn't very well tell him everything.

Mike took a deep breath. "I've been staying with Louis." He shrugged as though it had been a lark. "I left the place where I was staying when I came here the other night. It's – it's not a healthy place for me. For anyone. So I came here and saw you, then I ran into Donna in a coffee shop and she put me up at her place for the night."

Harvey was a little jealous. He'd never been to Donna's place and he had met her eight years ago. He pushed those feelings aside; Mike was his current focus. "If you were at Donna's, how'd you end up bunking with Louis?"

"Um – I left Donna's in the morning and stopped at a deli on the way home." Which wasn't much of an explanation. "Louis happened to come into the deli and see me. He bought me the world's largest breakfast, then offered me room at his place."

"And now – what?" Harvey prompted.

Mike shrugged again. "I don't know. Louis' place is fine. But..."

"You're afraid your old roommate will find you?" Harvey wasn't stupid. He knew something was going on. There was something about Mike's previous roommate that Harvey hadn't quite pinned down yet. Why else would the man have left an existing roof over his head?

"Yeah," Mike choked out, firing quick glances to the door as though he was expecting someone to crash in and drag him away.

Harvey shifted his hand from Mike's shoulder to his back in a reassuring motion. "No one is coming to get you here."

"How do you know that?" Mike snapped and yanked himself away from Harvey's touch.

"Because no one gets in here." Harvey leaned in to look at the young man next to him. Keeping his hands to himself for the moment. "Now, you wanted to talk..."

It was quiet for a bit. Several minutes almost. Then Mike turned his head. "I've changed my mind." Harvey nodded and began to lower himself to the floor, but Mike stopped him. He stayed on the bed. "No. I want to fuck you."

Changing direction as quickly as Mike spoke, Harvey opened a drawer and retrieved a couple of condoms and a couple plastic syringes loaded with lubricant. He handed them all to Mike. "I assume you know how to use those?" he asked with a wicked grin. Mike didn't seem nearly as amused. "How do you want me?" Harvey asked him.

"Uh – on your back," Mike answered, taking the condoms and lube in hand.

Harvey took a couple minutes to arrange the pillows on the bed. He adjusted the covers out of the way and stripped out of his robe. He settled himself in place, a few of the pillows at his back, one under his hips, and beckoned Mike to join him on the bed.

Mike placed the items Harvey had handed him on the nightstand. Then he stripped out of his clothes. Harvey didn't even bother hiding the fact that he was watching. Mike was slender, but had some muscle definition in a few places – abs and legs most prominent. Harvey wasn't sure what Mike did for a living, but it must have kept him active.

When Mike turned around to take off his pants. Harvey's attention got a new focus. "Mike," he said, sitting up for a better view. "What happened?" There was an angry slash across the skin of Mike's back.

Mike's shoulders tensed immediately, drawing up toward his ears. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay," Harvey agreed. "Just one thing – was it Louis?"

Mike shook his head and tugged his pants the rest of the way off his legs. "No. Not Louis. Can we please..."

"Good. That's all I wanted to know. Otherwise I'd have to go kick his ass." He settled back against the stack of pillows.

That made Mike snort. And his shoulders seemed to loosen a bit too. "I almost want to change my answer just to see that," Mike said as he turned to face the bed again. Harvey caught him staring, so, to indulge the man, he did a little posturing, working to guide Mike's gaze to all of the right places.

"So you _don't_ like Louis?"

Mike smirked and arched an eyebrow. "This isn't a good time to talk about him. But, I like him fine. Watching you fighting naked would be entertaining as hell though."

Harvey grinned, big and bright. "Damn straight."

Mike just shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Stop talking," he half-grumbled and crawled onto the bed. He held up a long, plastic syringe, pre-loaded with lubricant. "Okay, this is pretty genius. It already looks less messy than the usual way."

"In this business, they're a lifesaver. Unless you have a client who wants the build up. Or likes the mess." Harvey didn't have an opinion one way or the other, though his preference ran in the general direction of the syringes. Less clean-up is more his style.

No further commentary from Mike as he used the handy syringe for its intended purpose, seemingly fascinated with its functionality. Harvey was hinging on making commentary of his own, but thought better of it when Mike opened one of the condoms and rolled it into place. He watched Mike inch closer. He watched Mike stroking his own cock as he moved into position. Harvey had gotten a look at Mike's dick the other night, but the view had been obstructed by clothing. Tonight that wasn't the case. Mike was well-endowed in the inches department and not too shabby as far as girth. Neither the length nor the girth were a problem for Harvey, though he was a little concerned for any of Mike's other lovers.

"We good?" Mike asked, obviously aware of where Harvey had directed his attention.

Harvey drew his eyes from Mike's impressive length and re-focused on his face. "Absolutely," Harvey answered and felt his voice choke a little. Not nerves. Harvey didn't get nervous fucking new clients. He did get excited about the more interesting ones. That's what this was. Excitement.

"Is there anything I'm not allowed to do?" Mike asked. "Aside from the standard items in the original client agreement that Louis thinks I didn't read?"

Harvey grinned at Mike again, trailing his fingers along the skin of Mike's forearm. "I'm going to have to ask that you not mark me up in any way. I have a fussy client later tonight."

"Got it." Mike grazed his fingernails over the skin of Harvey's thighs without leaving even mild red irritations. Harvey shivered beneath him. Mike felt a little smug about that; Harvey could tell.

Harvey wriggled his hips. Mike slapped his leg. He moved in the last few centimeters and pressed the tip of his cock against Harvey's hole. He pushed in slowly. Harvey let out a warm sigh and reached out to grip at Mike's forearms with both hands. He could feel his muscles bunching already and Mike had hardly done anything yet.

"Are you enjoying this?" Mike asked. Then he thrust his hips forward, pressing most of his length into Harvey's ass.

"I was," Harvey said with a bit of a gasp. He frowned lightly at Mike, ready to pull the plug if it became necessary. "I told you – no damage."

But Mike didn't seem to be hearing him. Mike didn't seem to be paying attention to anything outside his own head. The man pulled back and thrust in hard. Really hard. Almost painful.

"Mike!" Harvey snapped, voice louder than normal. When he got no response, he tried again. And again. When still nothing, he reached out to slap Mike's cheek. Mike's skin turned a little pink, but he didn't have a hand print outline, so Harvey knew he hadn't done any real damage.

Mike caught Harvey's wrist in his fingers and glared hard at him. "The fuck are you doing? I'm paying you, right?" he snarled as he leaned forward, trying to get right in Harvey's face.

Harvey's face hardened immediately. His free hand pressed against Mike's shoulder, pushing him back. "Actually, you're not," he stated firmly. "But even if you were, it doesn't give you the right to abuse me or break my rules. So, you have two options – fucking behave, or get the hell out."

That finally seemed to get through to Mike. Harvey felt it when Mike slowed his pace. His movements eased into a more even rhythm. Mike thrust in and out, focused on that. Harvey would guess he was concentrating on how good it felt to have that touch of control over even just one thing in his life. It should feel good. Mike probably had no idea he was even telegraphing any of that. He wasn't really. Not as much as most people would need to be able to see it. Harvey wasn't most people. Harvey could read even the subtlest of clues. And he could see that Mike didn't care. Mike wanted to fuck this gorgeous man named Harvey who just so happened to be a whore. And Harvey knew it.

Harvey groaned deep in his chest, low and rumbling, as his body went tight. He knew Mike saw him come, spilling on his own stomach.

"Fuck, that's hot," Mike whispered. He kept thrusting into Harvey's ass, hard and fast. Then he slowed a bit, holding back. "Can I come on your chest?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Harvey nodded. "Of course."

Mike seemed to ponder this option for a moment before he pulled out and stripped off the condom. He inched forward, his thighs pressing firmly against Harvey's. He curled his fingers around his cock, and stroked himself until he came on Harvey's skin. He leaned his full weight on Harvey's legs for a moment, panting to catch his breath.

"That's not my chest," Harvey snarked, pointing at the splattering of white across his abdomen.

Mike smirked. "Close enough." He dragged a finger along the underside of Harvey's cock. "Tell me," finger stroked back down, "how much," back up, "you care."

Harvey's only response was a stuttered groan as his body arched off the bed again. Mike's damned teasing fingers making him fully lose the use of his brain for a solid two minutes.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey, man, where's this ass we ponied up for?" one of Trevor's poker buddies growled as he toyed with his poker chips, letting them click against each other as he lifted, then dribbled the stack back to the table.

Trevor sighed. He'd managed to reschedule the game from the other night when Mike hadn't come home, because he had hoped Mike would've gotten back already. So far, he hadn't. It was making Trevor nervous. "He's stuck at work tonight. So, just the pot tonight guys." He tapped the back of a chair. "I'm going to get the beer. Get the cards shuffled. I'll be right back."

As he stepped into the kitchen, his phone rang. It was Jenny. She was on her way to a 'girl's night' with some friends so she'd be out of the apartment during Trevor's poker night. He answered and told her he hadn't been able to find Mike and that he was concerned something had happened to him. She told him not to worry, Mike was an adult and could take care of himself.

Trevor wasn't worried about that. He knew Mike could take care of himself. That was actually the problem. Mike was the source of a good portion of Trevor's income. If Mike decided he wasn't coming back, that he could take care of himself and didn't need Trevor anymore, Trevor would have some trouble paying off a couple of his outstanding loans. To the tune of earning some broken fingers or kneecaps. He wasn't looking forward to that potential outcome.

Mike had tried to argue with Trevor about the way he made his money. Trevor had reminded Mike about why there were even loans that needed to be paid off in the first place. Grammy's care was expensive and Mike's bike messenger job didn't bring in nearly enough money for the cost of the new facility. Mike hadn't been happy about it, but he'd stopped arguing.

Either Trevor was going to have to find Mike and bring him back (assuming he didn't return on his own), or he'd need a new income stream. After he went into hiding for a year. Or more.

He collected a six pack of beer from the fridge and carried it back to the other room. "Okay, gentlemen," he said, setting the beer on the table, peeling one off and handing it to the man to his left, "let's play."

"We've been thinking," one of the players said, "what if we all fuck you instead?" He pointed a finger at Trevor to indicate exactly who he was talking about.

"Yeah," another spoke up accepting the beer Trevor was handing him, "since that's really why we're all here. A little poker, then a lot of fucking and sucking."

Trevor swallowed the baseball-sized lump that had formed in his throat. He felt his stomach drop like a stone. "That's not really the arrangement we have here, fellas."

"Man, we aren't here because we like playin' cards," the first man spoke again. One of the others tapped his shoulder and the four guests leaned together to exchange words quietly. Then the first man offered, "What if we pay twice what we do for your little bitch?"

Trevor's gut tightened. That much money would clear up his loans and leave him a little extra left over. As much as he wanted the money, he wasn't sure he was interested in running the train of his poker crew to get it. "Guys, can we play cards and," he paused, having a thought, "if you bust me first, I agree to this deal; if not, you leave and come back next week for your usual treat." This seemed like an equitable deal to him. Especially if he managed not to lose all of his chips.

This idea went over well with the poker crew. The ringleader shuffled up the cards and dealt out the first hand. Trevor held out pretty well for the first several hands. Then he bid based on his hand and his assumption of the rest of the table. He was wrong and lost two-thirds of his winnings.

He won back some of his money over the next few hands. But he knew he couldn't get comfortable. He played the hand he'd been dealt. It was a good hand. He tossed his bet in. The hand continued – cards, raises. It was Trevor's turn to bet or fold. He had less than one hundred dollars left in chips. If he folded, he wouldn't have enough to start the pot on the next hand. His chips were just enough to meet the current bets, but that was it. If he didn't win, he was busted and he would lose anyway.

Trevor took a deep breath, then tossed his chips onto the pile. It was the only chance he had to win anything back. He tried to keep all emotion and reaction off his face.

He looked around the table and suddenly realized he was done. It didn't matter who, one of the others had a better hand than his and knew it. Knew it like his own damned name. Trevor's three of a kind, lucky as it was, didn't mean shit.

The man who had proposed Trevor as a substitute for Mike threw down a luckier hand. Full house.

Trevor was screwed. Literally.

* * *

Mike stretched out on the couch with a book and the bottle of beer he'd gotten at the corner store on the way home. Louis' place. The beer was to take the edge off after he'd taken the turn that would lead him toward Trevor's apartment.

It was habit.

He hadn't been at Louis' long enough to break that yet. So – beer.

The book he'd picked up was something he hadn't read before, despite the hundreds of books he'd read over the years. But only because he'd never considered a career in law. He should have. This shit was interesting. Sure, it was an LSAT prep book, but it was still interesting. He'd made himself a mental note to look up some actual law books to read.

He read through the book and took all of the practice tests. He missed a total of four questions across all the tests. He set the book aside and moved to Louis' computer. It took him about five minutes to find more practice tests. He spent a few hours taking those as well. One he even timed out the way an actual version of the test would be taken. He still only missed a few of the questions.

"Are you planning to go to law school?" Louis asked when he came home.

Mike turned around and saw Louis had the prep book in his hand. "I don't know. I might. I need to look at more. But I got caught up in these practice tests. I could probably teach a course on how to take the LSAT."

Louis frowned at him. "Bullshit. How well could you be doing in just a few hours?"

Mike pulled up his test history on the practice site. It displayed all of his test scores, two of which were 180.

Louis was still frowning, but he was more confused than anything else. "How? I studied for months and the best I got was a 175."

"I'm really good at tests."

"So," Louis challenged, "if I gave you the ASVAB or the MCAT, you'd do the same thing?"

Mike blinked at him. "If you have the prep book for it, sure. If not, I might need a test or two to figure out what I'm doing." He knew what those tests were, but he'd never taken either of them. The military wasn't really his thing and medical school was expensive.

Louis walked away for about a minute, then returned with a stack of test prep books. There were six or eight of them. Mike looked at the spines. "Uh, Louis, I'm pretty sure I don't need an SAT prep book. I graduated college."

Louis' response was a frown. Followed by dumping all of the books onto the desk beside Mike. "Let me know how they go." Then he walked away.

Mike gave the test prep books a sideways glance, then went back to researching law. Including looking up old Bar exams and wondering if he could find test preparation information for that too. Law drew his interest the most of all of the test topics at his fingertips. And now he was wishing he'd looked at it more as a kid.

His parents, before they died, had told him he could pick whatever path he wanted. From astronaut to cowboy, they'd been supportive. Of course, he'd been eight years old then. What he wanted to be when he grew up changed at least once a week. He'd even wanted to be a professional dog walker at one point. An idea he'd entertained more than once since then.

His grandmother had been the same. She had offered advice and suggestions, but ultimately, left it to him. He'd been on track to double major in computer science and game design, and prepare for post-graduate work, but Grammy's condition had gotten worse and he'd needed to pay for her care.

That was part of how he'd gotten into trouble with Trevor. Trevor had offered him a loan to help with Grammy. That was fine, until Trevor needed to be paid back fast. Mike had no way to pay for Grammy and fully repay Trevor at the same time. So, Trevor came up with a plan. Unfortunately, that plan involved Mike being sold to the highest bidder Trevor could find.

* * *

"And that's how you ended up whoring for Trevor?" Donna asked him as she placed a new warm mug of tea on the table. She sat back in her chair and drew one knee up, propping her foot on the edge of the seat.

Mike nodded. Thanked her for the tea. "I – I don't even know why I'm telling you all of this. Hell, I'm sorry I bothered you so late. I didn't even realize what time it was," he babbled.

When Donna had opened the door in a long terrycloth robe that fell to her calves, he had tried to tell her to forget it as he stuffed her card back into his pocket. She had adamantly ushered him to the kitchen and made him tea. She hadn't had to ask him to talk, he'd started spilling the whole story and couldn't stop.

"It's fine, Mike. I just got home -" Mike assumed from an appointment with Harvey and it made him a combination of jealous and aroused that he found very odd - "and I told you, any time."

"You did, but people don't always mean it." He'd had people tell him that before only for them to be unavailable or irritated when he actually took them up on the offer. He couldn't pinpoint why he thought, even subconsciously, that Donna would be different, but something had driven him to seek her out.

She smiled at him across the table. "I do, sweetie." Then she put on her serious face to ask, "How much more do you owe this Trevor?"

Mike shrugged. "By my calculations, nothing." He was pretty sure he'd been keeping pretty close mental computations – additions and subtractions – of the money Trevor had loaned him and the earnings he'd brought in being used by Trevor's 'friends'. Even with the random extras Trevor had devised, Mike was certain he'd repaid everything. But Trevor's ledger didn't seem to match Mike's. He'd even put all of the information into a spreadsheet to calculate it different ways. He still came up well beyond having paid Trevor back. He just couldn't show that to Trevor for fear of worse repercussions.

"So what is he holding over you to keep you there? Or – what was it?"

Mike stared into the tea for a long time. His face was hot and he didn't like the person Trevor had made him. "Guilt," he answered with a lot of uncertainty and a roiling in his belly. "I don't really know. Every time I told him I didn't want to do it anymore, he'd remind me how he helped me with Grammy."

Donna frowned. "And if you told him you'd already paid him back?"

"He'd pick some bullshit favor from school he'd done for me." Mike sighed heavily and wrapped his fingers around the still too hot to actually touch mug. It hurt, but he ignored the pain. "Or, he would tell me about some debt of mine that had cropped up."

"And after a while, you were so broken down it didn't have to be big favors?" Donna was far more intuitive than she'd even let on that first night in the coffee shop.

Mike nodded as he started to cry. He pushed the mug toward the middle of the table and lowered his forehead to rest where the mug had been. He could feel his shoulders shaking and the tears making his stomach hurt.

Donna let him cry for a bit before asking something else. "What made you decide not to go home that first night? The night you accepted my offer of a room for the night."

He sniffled and wiped his nose with a napkin. "Harvey." He blew his nose and grabbed another napkin to dry his eyes.

"He'll be glad to hear that," Donna said with a bit of a laugh. "What did Harvey do that was so different?"

Mike, eyes tired and red, blinked across the table at her. "He treated me like a person. Not a piece of meat to be used and thrown into a cage."

Donna reached out a hand to rub Mike's back. "I'm so sorry sweetie. Is there anything you need?"

Mike shook his head. "No. You've done more than enough. Thank you."

"Any time."

It was quiet for a bit. Mike drank his tea and stared into the distance. Then he started speaking again. He told her about things Trevor did to him or made him do. How Trevor threatened him in various ways. How Trevor lied to Jenny and told Mike no one would believe him if he told anyone about their 'arrangement'.

"One night, some guy had paid Trevor a thousand dollars to be able to tie me down and fuck me as hard as he wanted. He didn't gag me, so I was screaming when Jenny came home. Trevor told her it was part of a sex game and no one was being hurt."

Donna winced. Nothing about Mike's stories was pleasant. He could tell she felt bad for him and wanted to do whatever she could to help him. "Did she believe that?"

Mike shrugged. "I don't think so. Maybe at first, but after she saw me, no."

"Did she do anything to help you?"

The tiniest of smiles bent the very corners of his mouth. "A little. She couldn't do much without Trevor finding out. But, I'm pretty sure she is why I got the appointment at the brothel."

"If that lead to you getting out, then I'd say she did."

"I guess we'll find out if Trevor ever manages to find me."

Donna sipped her tea. "Have you told anyone else about any of this?"

Mike frowned at her. "No. I – I've been too ashamed of what happened."

Donna nodded once. "I can certainly understand that. But, Mike, maybe you should talk about it. Get it out."

"To who? Who would even care?"

"I'm sure you have friends. Maybe even your grandmother," she offered gently.

Mike shook his head. He could feel his whole body flooding with fear. "I can never tell her."

Donna was sipping her tea and lowered the mug from her lips. "Harvey hates abusive partners, and sometimes he listens pretty well too," she said, almost more to herself, but Mike heard her.

"Are you wanting me to talk about this to get it off my chest or because you think he can get me a job? If it's the latter, that's a big fucking 'no'. I am not for sale."

"Just a buyer then?"

Mike snorted. Maybe she hadn't meant for that to be funny, but to him, it warranted a chuckle. "I'm not even that." He hadn't paid for anything. The first visit had been covered by McKernon. The second was a comp.

"I should be jealous," Donna said with a mild frown. "I've never gotten a freebie."

Mike shrugged. "Maybe you don't look pathetic enough."

"You are not pathetic. Though since you mentioned it, have you found yourself a job?"

"You sound like my grandmother."

Donna gave him a look. "I'm going to assume that's a good thing."

He almost made a snarky comment. But, she'd been nothing but kind to him, so it felt out of place. He nodded at her. "Yeah, it's a good thing. She's probably why I haven't done something horrible to myself."

Donna gave him a sympathetic look. "Mike – promise me you won't do anything... at least not without talking to someone first."

He shook his head. "I won't. Things have been better since I moved in at Louis'. I do want to go visit my grandmother though."

"When's the last time you saw her?" Donna asked, voice quiet.

Mike shrugged for what felt like the fiftieth time. "A year, maybe?"

"Oh, Mike. You should definitely go see her. I'm sure she's missing you."

This time he offered a nod. He knew that. He's missed her too. And he hated that he hadn't been able to get over to see her more often. "Probably."

"Trevor again?" Donna intuited.

Another nod. "Not always directly. It's hard to lie to her, so if I show up covering bruises or scratches, she'd know. Then she'd ask questions. Questions I wouldn't want to answer, because who wants to tell their grandmother that they get sold for sex by their childhood friend and can't figure how to get out of it?" He was almost sobbing into the dregs of his tea again. "God, Donna, how the fuck am I going to do this?"

"Mike, sweetie, you already have. You got out. Now all you need to do is use that magic brain of yours -" she'd heard Louis babbling something about Mike's memory - "I'm sure you can figure it out."

"You really know everything don't you?"

She grinned at him. "Of course. I'm Donna."


	5. Chapter 5

"Harvey..."

"Jessica..."

"I've been looking for you," she told him as she approached across the sitting room.

He smirked. "No you haven't, but what do you need?"

"I need you to show a new client a good time."

Harvey frowned at her. "Have I ever not done that?"

Jessica smirked at him. "Three weeks ago. Daniel's new client. The woman left in tears."

Now Harvey rolled his eyes. "Because I told her she should go back to her husband of thirty-five years unless he was the one who had sent her."

"Harvey..."

"What?" he asked. "I wasn't about to ruin the woman's marriage because they couldn't be assed to talk to each other."

"Be that as it may, Tony Gianopoulos will be here tonight, looking for a good time."

"Isn't that usually why our clients come here?"

"Shut up, Harvey. You will entertain Mr. Gianopoulos in accordance with the sum of money he is paying us." She held up her cellphone with a ledger entry screen.

Harvey looked at the screen, then back at Jessica. "As long as he respects my limits, he can have whatever he wants." Harvey wasn't an idiot. He didn't get put with new clients often, unless they were special guests of another client, or willing to shell out very large sums of cash. Gianopoulos was the latter.

"Good. He'll be here at nine."

Harvey sighed. "You rescheduled Donna's standing appointment?"

"I did. That was the only open slot on Gianopoulos' calendar."

"When she comes in here angry, I'm sending her to you."

Jessica beamed at him as she walked away.

Another voice calling his name caught his attention. He turned to find Rachel approaching. "Do I have extra strong pheromones today?"

Rachel's face bent into a confused frown. "No -" she said hesitantly. Then, at Harvey's expectant expression, "I heard about your new client."

"How? _I_ just heard about my new client."

She smirked back at him. "I want him."

An eyebrow went up. "You want my client?"

Rachel nodded eagerly. "Yes."

It was Harvey's turn to frown. "Why?"

For a moment, Rachel stared at her feet. "Um, I know what he's into." She looked back up at Harvey. "I like what he's into."

"You researched my new client in the fifteen seconds before you accosted me?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "No. I researched Tony Gianopoulos. He just happens to be your new client."

"What makes you think he'll want you over me?"

Rachel looked down at her breasts, riding high and full in her push-up corset top, then glanced back up to Harvey.

His brows bent downward. "If that's the case, why would Jessica assign him to me?"

Rachel pursed her lips. She didn't have a good answer for that. But she wasn't giving up. "Maybe he likes both, but wanted dick this time."

Harvey's eyebrows reversed position. "That is a very likely possibility. But, you can't have him."

"Harvey -"

He held up a finger to stop her protest. "Not until after tonight. And then, you still have to earn it."

Rachel nodded happily, almost bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Thanks, Harvey."

"I haven't done anything."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be a dick," then she sauntered away.

Harvey made his way toward his original destination – coffee.

The kitchen was buzzing with activity. Some just waking up, some getting ready to grab a nap. The common display was a coffee mug nearby or in hand. A squirrely strawberry blond handed Harvey a mug of his own. In it was coffee with the cream and sugar added just the way he liked it.

"I've told you, Harold, you don't have to make my coffee."

"I know, Mr. Specter," Harold began, shocked that Harvey had gotten his name right this time, "but I like doing it. Making coffee is the one thing I'm good at."

"Harold, you're good at a lot of things," Chloe, a petite brunette who was perched on a stool at the kitchen island, said to him. "You just need to keep reminding yourself of that."

"Thanks, Chloe," Harold said. "I just wish all of this wasn't so hard."

"All of what?" Hailey asked. Hailey was dark-skinned with hair she liked to dye wild colors and legs that went on for miles.

"This." Harold gestured to the house. "I never know what to say."

"They're here for sex, Harold. You ask them what they want, then you do it," Harvey said.

"But you seem to know what people want before they tell you."

Harvey smirked that cocky smirk that screamed ego. "I'm different." He sipped his coffee. "Look, Harold, it's not something you can really learn. But, what you _can_ do, is learn to listen to people."

"I do li..."

"I mean _really_ listen. Not just hear them. There's a difference." He glanced around the kitchen to find everyone focused on him as though he was dispensing the secret to end world hunger.

He continued, "When a client talks to you, hear the words, but also listen. Listen closely to what they tell you. Not just about what sex they want, but what problem they're trying to solve. Maybe they just want to talk. Maybe their dog just died. Maybe they're testing out a sort of open relationship to see if it'll work. Or maybe they want to try something new or kinky they aren't ready to try with their usual partner."

Harold was gaping at him. "How do you get any of that from 'I want you to fuck me'?" he asked.

Harvey sighed. "You have to listen."

"How. What's the difference?"

Another sigh. "I don't have time for this. Ask them," he pointed to the other people in the room. He grabbed a bagel on his way out of the kitchen. He wasn't being a dick – this time – he had a client coming in ten minutes.

* * *

"Hey, Louis," Mike called from the computer desk.

Louis appeared beside him in a nothing but his boxers. "Yeah?"

Mike gave him a once over, but didn't comment. "Do you have a web cam for this?" He indicated the computer. "And a mic?"

"Of course," Louis answered with a scoff. He retrieved the items from a nearby cabinet. "Why?"

"I'm going to make videos teaching people how to get higher scores on these entrance exams."

"People are going to buy those?" Louis didn't sound curious, he sounded offended.

Mike fed him a look. "You bought twenty-five prep books. I'm taking that a step further. I have a whole business plan – beginner through highly advanced. Once I make and edit the videos, I put 'em up and people can pay to download them. I don't even have to be here to sell them."

"Mike, there's no way that works."

"I've sold fifty LSAT videos already. I'll make new ones with the better webcam, that first one I made on my phone."

Louis' expression turned to a different shade of incredulous. "Why would people listen to you?"

Mike held up the sample test scores, not sure why he needed to show Louis a second time. "I've aced all of the tests. Multiple times. On camera."

"No one is watching you take a test for three hours."

"No, they're not. I sped it up and loaded it as a separate video for free so they can watch if they want. Look, Louis, this is a good model. It'll work. And, if not, all I've done is waste my own time. I'm still a bike messenger."

Louis pressed his lips together. "When you make your first thousand, come see me."

Mike cleared his throat and pulled up his spreadsheets. "I told you, I've already sold fifty videos." He would swear Louis' ears were turning red.

"Fine. Five thousand."

"Why?"

"Well, if this idea is as good as you say, you'll need investments and tax shelters and a bunch of other stuff."

Mike frowned. "I thought you worked in the brothel with Harvey."

"I do. And I'm just as good. But I'm good at financial stuff too. Investing. That sort of thing." He sighed and thumbed the LSAT prep book on the desk. "See, I was going to be a lawyer. I love the law and I wanted to work in it. I was all set to go to law school even."

"What happened?"

"Esther." Louis' face wrinkled in disgust and disappointment. "She broke her foot and needed surgery to fix it. Insurance covered most of it, but not all. Mom and Dad spent my law school money on Esther's stupid foot," he grumbled. "I started working for Daniel and Jessica as a way to pay for law school."

Mike was trying very hard not to giggle at the stereotype playing out before him. It wasn't stripping, but it was close. He didn't hate the idea. Hell, if his own circumstances had been different, he might have done the same thing.

"How come you never made it to law school?"

Louis laughed as though Mike were monumentally stupid. "I got rich. I made some money and invested it. I make so much off my investments now that I could quit working for the brothel and be just fine."

"So, why do you stay?"

"Honestly? I really like work. Harvey's a narcissistic prick, but he's right about one thing – we provide a service people need. The fact that they're willing to pay for it proves that. The world might not end if we didn't exist, but it wouldn't be as happy."

Mike's eyes went wide. "Harvey said that?" Though he didn't really have much frame of reference, having only met the man twice. It just didn't 'feel' very Harvey to him.

"He did. I may have paraphrased a little, but that was the general idea." Louis stood straight. "Now, get back to your videos. I have to go to work." He started for his room, but tossed over his shoulder, "Make sure to come to me when you earn that first five, now."

* * *

"Mr. Gianopoulos, welcome," Hardman greeted the newest high profile client as he came through the door. "Can I get you anything? Or would you like a tour of the house?"

"No, thank you. I'm sure the man I'm here to see can adequately handle all of my needs," Gianopoulos said. This wasn't strictly a business transaction, but he wasn't interested in sharing details of his personal life or engaging in pleasantries. He knew what he wanted. He'd come for that. Not networking.

"Of course. I assume you've made payment arrangements with Louis?" Hardman asked. With an affirmative nod from Gianopoulos, he continued, "Good. Then I'll take you up to see Harvey."

Gianopoulos followed Hardman through the sitting room and past the row of portraits on the wall. He glanced at each of the portraits as he passed them. He followed Hardman up the stairs and to a suite at the end of the hall where Hardman stopped. Hardman motioned to a couch along the wall opposite the door.

"If you'll have a seat here, I'll let him know you've arrived."

Gianopoulos frowned slightly at needing to wait, but settled onto the elegant couch and folded one leg over the other. He drew his phone from a pocket and flipped through his email.

"Should just be a moment," Hardman said, then rapped his knuckles on Harvey's door. He cracked the door open. "Harvey," he said to the seemingly empty room, "your client is waiting."

"Two minutes, Daniel," Harvey called from the en suite.

Hardman closed the door. "Two minutes. Can I get you anything?"

Gianopoulos looked up from his phone. "No." Then his eyes were back on the screen. He assumed Hardman walked away then; he didn't look up until Harvey opened the door.

* * * * *

"Mr. Gianopoulos," Harvey said, "sorry for the wait. Please come in."

"Are you kissing my ass, Mr. Specter?" Gianopoulos asked as he rose from the couch and stepped into Harvey's room.

Harvey smiled. "Not yet, but if that's what you're into..." he began as he pushed the door closed.

"Very accommodating," Gianopoulos said. "Can I call you Harvey?"

"Yes. And what would you prefer I call you?" Harvey leaned against a dresser, his robe shifting to display his leg up to his thigh.

Gianopoulos wandered around the room, looking at the bed and the pair of chairs before answering, "You can call me Tony tonight."

The man, Tony Gianopoulos, was dressed very well – tailored suit, silk tie, Italian leather shoes, expensive watch – and he knew it. But he wasn't showy about it. His look was classic, but from the finest materials. He was a corporate raider, after all. If the man had a private jet, Harvey wouldn't be surprised.

"So, Tony, what is it you want tonight?"

"I have particular tastes, Harvey."

"As long as they don't violate my limits, that won't be a problem."

Gianopoulos nodded and sat on the bed. He removed his shoes, then his socks. On his feet again, he slid out of his jacket, then tugged off his tie. "I do not believe your limits will be a problem." He began to unbutton his shirt. "You asked what I want. First, I want you to kneel on the bed so you can blow me."

Harvey dropped his robe onto the back of a chair. Bending a knee, he rested a leg on the bed and crawled to the middle. He settled back on his heels. "Are you getting on the bed or staying on the floor?"

"I'll stand. I want you on all fours. I'm going to fuck your face." The man knew what he wanted and had no qualms about asking for it.

It wasn't his favorite act, but he would do it when asked. He could stop it if he needed to. Most clients either had no idea what they were doing or lasted less than a minute because they'd hyped themselves up so much for it.

Harvey walked his hands out so he was in the requested position. He came face-to-face with Gianopoulos' cock as the man was rolling on a condom. He couldn't help it, he moaned in anticipation. Some days, he really loved this job.

Gianopoulos took a step forward and nudged Harvey's chin with his finger. "Open please," he said. When Harvey did, he pressed the head of his cock into Harvey's mouth. His eyes fell closed and he let Harvey work on him for a while.

Harvey's mouth was hot and wet. His tongue was talented, teasing the head of Gianopoulos' cock. He smoothed a hand over Harvey's hair. "Are you ready for me to fuck the shit out of your face?" he asked, teeth pressed together so the words hissed a little.

Harvey blinked up at him and nodded very gently. That was all the acknowledgment Gianopoulos needed. He pressed forward, pushing his cock all the way into Harvey's mouth. Then he drew back until his cock barely brushed Harvey's lips. That was all the warning Harvey would get. Gianopoulos thrust his hips forward, faster this time.

He built up speed quickly, until his hips were pumping with a steady pace. It was all Harvey could do to stay in position. His jaw was already starting to fatigue from being held open so wide for so long against this level of speed and force.

This was a new client, so Harvey had no reference for his stamina. Obviously, he wasn't a quick finisher, but it was beginning to feel like he was in for the long haul.

Gianopoulos thrust forward and moaned. But that wasn't the end. He kept fucking Harvey's mouth. The man either knew what he liked or he liked the feel of Harvey's mouth more than anything else he'd had. Harvey didn't much care which. He would do his job. He would be as accommodating as the client required. Within reason.

Several minutes later, Gianopoulos finally came, shoving Harvey off his cock as he did. Harvey rocked back enough that Gianopoulos could pull free. Then he collapsed onto his side, panting heavily and wiping spit from his chin. He worked his jaw a few times to loosen it up.

Gianopoulos let out a warm moan. "Yes, that will do for my purposes."

Harvey hadn't recovered enough movement in his jaw to offer more than a grunted affirmative.

Gianopoulos chuckled. "This is fine. I don't need you to speak for our next task anyway." He stripped off the first condom and disposed of it. He cleaned himself off, then got a new condom. "On your back please," he instructed Harvey.

Harvey complied, glad he wasn't required to use his mouth for the time being. He slid a pillow beneath his hips to align them better for what he assumed was next.

"So well-behaved," Gianopoulos said as he stroked his own cock in preparation. "Are you always this good?"

"No," Harvey croaked with his still-dry throat, but he was grinning. He absolutely could be a brat – if that's what the client wanted.

"I may have to punish you for that."

"I look forward to it." His voice was still raspy, but getting better. He offered Gianopoulos the lube he'd retrieved from the night table.

Gianopoulos did what preparation he required, then settled between Harvey's legs. "I won't be as forceful with your ass." Then he pushed his cock, slowly, into Harvey's ass. He fucked him slow and steady for over an hour.

He was true to his word regarding the force, but Harvey was almost more exhausted from the slower fucking than he had been from the pounding of his mouth. This wasn't the first client he'd had with long stamina, but he was the first who was polite about it and dedicated to getting what he wanted.

Harvey was also surprised that, through all of this, he hadn't come himself. Gianopoulos had come twice. And Harvey's cock was hard as a rock, but he hadn't been pushed to orgasm just yet. He was good, but two hours was impressive, even for him.

Gianopoulos didn't seem concerned one way or the other. He had in mind what he needed to do, and he was doing those things. Harvey was just along for the ride.

"Mmm, you are a good fuck, Harvey," Gianopoulos said. "I have just a couple more things to try. First, I'd like you to use your hands and mouth to get me off. At your own pace and pleasure this time. After that, I'll stroke you off nice and slow. A long tease. If you've pleased me, I'll let you climax."

Harvey nodded his agreement. "Make yourself comfortable." He waited for Gianopoulos to settle into one of Harvey's armchairs. Kneeling, Harvey sidled in close and smoothed a palm over his client's cock. "Like this, I'll need to finish you with my hands," he said. Gianopoulos agreed and settled in to watch Harvey work.

Fingers, hands, tongue and lips all teased and toyed with Gianopoulos' cock. He leaned in, mouth sliding down the length to the base. He dipped a hand down to tease his balls and received a deep, guttural sound of approval in response. That meant he definitely did that again.

Given the first two scenarios, Harvey was prepared to suck cock for a long time. However, his client didn't last quite as long this time. Harvey picked up on his tells and drew his mouth away just at the end, and needed only a couple strokes of his hand to have Gianopoulos spilling over his fingers.

The man seemed to need a few more minutes to recover this time. Harvey pushed to his feet to get a wipe for his hands. He cleaned himself up a little while he waited. He offered a wipe to Gianopoulos as well.

"Excellent," Gianopoulos muttered. "Please, make yourself comfortable on the bed again."

Again, Harvey followed the instructions he was given. And waited. He'd almost come while sucking off his client. While Gianopoulos hadn't explicitly disallowed it, Harvey had erred on the side of holding back. He was hoping that wasn't a mistake.

Gianopoulos paced to the side of the bed. "You impressed me, Harvey. So many of the people I test out either have no stamina or try too damned hard. You've obviously been trained well by someone."

The first thing that came to Harvey's mind was something snarky and cocky. He kept it to himself. What he said instead was, "What is it you're looking for, Tony?"

Gianopoulos dragged one finger, slowly, along the full length of Harvey's cock. "I'm looking for someone to be a hole I can fuck. That's all I want. If you can arrange a set-up with curtains or screens to block our view of each other," he stroked his finger along the underside of Harvey's cock, "even better. I like playing with anonymity, but I like talented partners. Hence the tests." Finally his fingers curled around Harvey's cock and he began to stroke him slowly. "Does that work for you, Harvey?"

Harvey's toes curled. "Well, I am a vain narcissist, so this should really bother me, but it doesn't." His hips jerked off the bed for a moment. "I have black curtains, folding divider screens," a moan, "even a make-shift glory hole – oh fuck."

"All of those are acceptable." He stroked Harvey's cock for a bit before he spoke again. "I haven't been to a glory hole in years. Almost too dangerous now. Too many people know who I am. I never know who might be on the other side."

Harvey took a deep breath. "If you want true anonymity, I could arrange something here."

"I might take you up on that. For now, I want you to relax while I stroke your beautiful cock. Oh, and feel free to come whenever it feels natural for you."

Harvey woke up some time later, naked, alone, and with a hand-written note on his nightstand: 

> You are a beautiful specimen. I will contact you for our next adventure.  
> Tony

He knew he needed to get up and shower the come off his skin, but he was too damned exhausted. He lay there thinking about getting up. The next time he thought about it, he was under a layer of blankets and the sun was up. _Fuck._


	6. Chapter 6

"Jessica," Hardman greeted as he caught her in the hall, "Harvey missed a client last night."

"That's because his new client ran him at a gallop for four hours and he was passed out from exhaustion," Jessica responded. "I had someone take care of the client and she left happy. We haven't lost anything."

"It doesn't look good when the star athlete isn't available to play in the game."

Jessica stopped walking and turned to fix Hardman with a look. "He did play. All we did was bring in a relief pitcher," she countered. She wasn't about to let Hardman bad mouth one of her best whores because of some personal vendetta.

"We probably shouldn't do that often," Hardman said.

"Daniel, Harvey has missed exactly two days since he started here. And last night's client. I don't think there is a risk of it becoming a pattern." She knew better. She knew Harvey. Those two days he had missed, she had sent him home because he was sick.

Hardman didn't seem convinced. "See that it doesn't," he snipped at her before he sauntered off.

Jessica waited until his back was turned to roll her eyes. There were days when she wasn't sure why Hardman was in this business. He didn't seem to like it all that much. What she did know was that he liked having power. And wielding it. For some reason, he really enjoyed wielding it over Harvey. Probably because Harvey was so headstrong and defiant.

Those traits made Harvey good at his job. Even if it also made him a royal pain in the ass sometimes. He gave his full attention to his clients. The only complaints she ever had were when Harvey wasn't available. And that one client who hated everything and was never happy. She excluded the married woman who left in tears. Harvey was right about her.

She would gladly accept Harvey's less positive personality traits to have all of the other traits he had that helped keep her business running. Both of them, though Harvey had much less to do with the B&B side than the brothel side. And, yes, she was including the traits he claimed he didn't have – mentoring the others, helping them learn or improve skills, giving them advice – he was far more asset than liability. And she liked it that way.

* * *

Mike turned off the camera and the mic. That was the third video he had recorded today. He still needed to edit them before he put them up, but the material was finished. He sat back in his chair and rubbed his hands back over his hair. He was almost exhausted.

Putting the videos together was hard work, but it was _his_. No one was making him do anything. He could take time off or quit whenever he wanted. And no one could shut down his business as long as he followed all of the requisite rules and regulations. Which he had.

His first video, rough as it was, was still selling really well. And he had lots of requests for more. And for other tests – including various state Bar exams. Those were coming. He'd recorded LSAT part two today, along with GRE part one, and MCAT part one. He was on a roll and just kept recording. He had made a schedule of videos he wanted to do with a rotating collection of tests so he wouldn't burn himself out.

He didn't know why Louis had high-end video editing software (and he had no plans to ever ask him about it), but he was glad he did. It made the editing job easier – and it was a program he was familiar with from his undergraduate work. Some days he wished he'd been able to land a job with his degree, it would have made things easier. But other life events had gotten in his way and taken up so much of his time, that, by the time he'd figured out Grammy's care and straightened things out, he was in debt to Trevor and working that off under Trevor's rules.

Before he started working on editing, he wanted to take a break. Have some dinner. Maybe play a video game for a bit. He needed to unwind a little, let his brain rest.

He ordered a pizza, then settled on the couch to play _Mario Kart_ while he waited. It let his mind relax and parse through some things he hadn't had time to focus on recently. He thought about his grandmother and going to visit her. He'd have to remember to take her a present. It really had been at least a year since he'd seen her. Maybe he would bake her cookies. They used to do that all the time before she had to be moved to the full-time care facility.

As he raced little pixelated cars, his thoughts drifted to what he would be able to do with the money he was making. This lead him to thinking about Harvey. And maybe showing up to pay for his services himself and not needing a 'pity date'. He thought about what it would feel like to have Harvey fuck him. Nice and slow, hard and fast, or any combination of those. His cock was getting hard just at the thought.

He was strongly considering doing something about his increasingly tightening pants when the intercom buzzed. At least he could feed one of his hungers. Pausing the game and tossing the controller to the coffee table, he got up from the couch and crossed to the door.

He buzzed the delivery guy up and waited the three minutes it would take for them to reach the door. He opened the door when he heard the knock and came face-to-face with Trevor.

"Hi, Mike," Trevor said before Mike could throw the door shut.

He tried, but Trevor braced it with one strong arm. Mike's stomach dropped. "What are you doing here, Trevor?"

"I've been looking for you, Mike. You've had us worried."

Mike knew what Trevor was doing. But Mike liked where he was now. He wasn't giving that up. "You weren't worried about me, Trevor," he said, keeping his voice firm. "You were worried about losing your cash cow."

"That is not true. I've been very worried. I was afraid you'd been arrested or worse." Trevor was trying to wear his serious, yet concerned, face, but Mike saw through the bullshit.

"Well, I wasn't. You can stop worrying. I'm fine." He tried to close the door again, but Trevor was leaning too much of his weight against it.

"Mike, we need you to come home," Trevor pleaded.

Mike frowned at him. "I _am_ home. This is where I live."

"As some creepy rich guy's fuck boy?"

"No, Trevor. You're the only one who wanted to use me as a fuck boy. Now, please leave."

Trevor didn't budge. "You need to come back where you belong."

Mike's face hardened. "I am exactly where I belong. Now, you'd better get out of here before building security realizes you're not supposed to be here." His heart was racing, hoping Trevor wouldn't realize his bluff and would just leave already.

"What security?" Trevor scoffed, turning to glance down the hallway in either direction.

Mike's bluff was about to fall flat when a large man in a black polo shirt came into view down the hall. Mike nodded in the man's direction and saw the 'oh shit' look cross Trevor's face.

"This isn't over, Mike," he spat.

"Yes, it is. And if you come back, I'm calling the cops."

Mike watched Trevor dart toward the stairs and disappear just as Polo Guy got close enough for Mike to see the emblem on his shirt. The guy actually did work security, just not for Louis' building.

He nodded at the big guy and stepped back to close the door. The big guy paused. "Was that guy bothering you?" Polo Guy asked.

"Uh, yeah. He was," Mike responded, thinking this could actually work in his favor.

Polo Guy pulled a card from his pocket. "He comes around again, give me a call. I'll convince him to change his mind."

Mike blinked at the card, then up at the guy. "Thanks, Dylan."

"You bet. Have a good night." Then he stepped toward the elevator as the doors opened and a pizza delivery guy stepped off the car.

Mike collected his pizza, then closed the door and took several deep breaths to try to slow his heart-rate back to normal. That interaction with Trevor had been way too close. He was extremely grateful to Dylan for his serendipitous appearance, but Mike didn't want to be dependent on coincidences or a good bluff.

He could try to convince himself that Trevor wasn't coming back. But he knew he was. Trevor liked being in control and manipulating people. And him.

No more. Mike was taking control of his own life.

* * *

Rachel led her client to her room. He was a younger man, blond, and, seemingly, very sweet. She was new to this job, but not so new that she believed the outward appearances on the first meet.

She sat on one chair and motioned for her client to sit in the other. They talked for a bit, determining what he wanted and what she was willing to do. And what she wasn't.

He had told her his name, but he didn't respond to it when she used it. Probably a fake because he was nervous. People did it all the time. There were plenty of stories. And this wasn't even her first client who'd given a false name. Though, this time, it was kind of cute.

"Honey, we don't talk about our clients. It's all confidential. So if you'd be more comfortable being called by your real name, I can do that. You don't have to tell me anything else."

That seemed to ease some of his nerves. "Cameron," he said quietly.

"Nice to meet you, Cameron." She smiled at him. "Now, what would you like to do tonight?"

Cameron took a quick breath, eyes on his shoes. "I want to be tied to the bed and ridden like a pony." His voice didn't sound very certain when he spoke.

"We can definitely do that," Rachel said. She smiled warmly. "But, is that what you really want?"

"Yes," he muttered. Then a moment later, he sighed, and raised his head. "No. No, it's not. But, that's what I would tell people."

Her smile widened. "Cameron, never be afraid to ask for what you really want."

He relaxed even more. "I – what I really want is to be used."

"Okay. Used how?"

He took a deep breath this time, shoring up his courage. "Strip me naked and take me whatever way you want."

Rachel made a purring sound. "Nice. I like that. Are you ready to begin?" Cameron nodded, so Rachel got started. "Good. Take your clothes off and lay down on the bed," she told him as she rose from her chair. She watched him comply, a little nervous still, but much better than when he first came in. Cute was shifting into a little sexy.

She was proud of herself for putting some of Harvey's communication tips into practice. It worked a lot better than she had thought it would. The next time she wanted to see Harvey crow about being awesome, she'd have to tell him he was right.

Rather than asking her client if he wanted her to remove her clothes or keep them on, she played into his fantasy. She kept her clothes – such that they were – on, and praised herself for wearing French tie panties with her garters today.

She climbed onto the bed. Pushed his shoulder for him to lay back against the pillows as she straddled his hips. She took a quick minute to roll a condom, slowly, down the length of his cock. Watching his face, she moved into position and began rocking her hips, rubbing herself against his erection. Making him wait. Building up the anticipation. He wanted to be used. She could do that. She could do that real well.

After she was done teasing him to the point of quivering, she untied her panties and tugged them free. "I'm going to ride you so hard your eyes will roll back in your head," she whispered to him. He let out a strangled moan and croaked a quick 'okay' as she slid herself into place on his cock.

"Feel free to come whenever you want. But remember that I'll keep riding you until I'm finished," Rachel told him.

She heard him make another noise. It made her grin. This was fun for her. Most of her clients only wanted to fuck her silly or order her around. It was a lovely change to be in charge.

Rachel could tell Cameron was trying to hold out until after she came. She also knew there was no chance he'd make it. She had much more control. And she wasn't worked up half-way to climax when they started.

True to her word, once he came, she kept riding him. Rocking her hips. Lifting up. Sliding down. Using him as her plaything. Exactly the way he'd wanted.

By the time she reached her own orgasm, Cameron was panting and writhing beneath her. She grinned at him as she leaned forward, patted his cheek, and said, "Good boy."


	7. Chapter 7

Donna's standing appointment with Harvey was rescheduled – by Jessica of all people. At least she knew it was important and not some bullshit. She had made other plans, theater plans, and enjoyed herself. But, she had insisted that her next session be at least twice as long as usual. Jessica hadn't objected at all. (Donna already knew Harvey wouldn't.)

She arrived fifteen minutes early and had a drink while she waited. The lovely brunette – Rachel – stopped by and let her know that Harvey was with another client, but would be ready for her soon.

When Harvey finally came down for her, she already had a plan formed for what she wanted to do with him.

"My most sincere apologies," he said, bending to kiss her hand.

She gave him a coy smile and saw him shudder. He knew. He knew something was coming. Good.

"Remove your clothes," she instructed.

He blinked. Hesitation. "I beg your pardon?"

"Our standard rules still apply," she told him flatly. "Now, take off your clothes. I want to see if you're worth my time tonight." She already knew he was. He always was. But she was feeling vaguely betrayed and a little cranky about rescheduling. It was bleeding into her persona tonight. She knew Harvey could handle it.

She watched him. Waited for him to comply with her direction. She gave him a 'what are you waiting for' look.

He leaned in and very quietly whispered, "We're not really supposed to be naked in the common areas." That explained his hesitation. It didn't mean she would go any easier on him.

Donna looped a leather collar around his neck and attached a leash. "If there are any repercussions, I'll take care of it. Now, strip. And get on your knees."

His movements weren't as enthusiastic as they usually were, but he complied with her request. He didn't seem to be paying attention to anyone else in the room. That's what she wanted. All of his focus on her.

Donna tugged at the leash, bidding him to follow her. She climbed the stairs, periodically checking that he was crawling behind her. (Someone else would collect his clothes.) The compliance was exactly what she needed.

She directed him to settle on the floor while she closed the door and paced the room, collecting items she might need tonight. She left him there, sitting on his heels, for several minutes. His body language screamed nervous with a side of sexualized anticipation. Nervous was okay. It meant he was on alert but not preparing to sound an alarm. As for the anticipation, that was fairly standard and always welcome.

She didn't want him scared. That wasn't her style. Even if it was, she would have negotiated it ahead of time.

No, she wanted him on pins and needles. Wondering if she would let him orgasm tonight. Whether she did or not, she would definitely make him wait for it.

"Watch me," she said as she began to slowly strip out of her dress. Beneath it, she was clad in a leather corset, lacy panties, and thigh-high leather boots.

She watched carefully for Harvey's reaction. His mouth must have gone dry, because she saw him swallow. She saw the muscles in his chest tighten, indicating he'd clenched the fingers of one hand around the opposite wrist. She also saw his beautiful cock begin to stand at attention.

Lifting one leg, Donna propped a foot on a nearby ottoman. Harvey didn't need a verbal instruction for that. Immediately, he crawled across the floor and began to drag his tongue across the smooth leather of her boot.

"Good boy," she told him, lamenting the fact that she'd left all of her toys on the bed. It didn't matter. She had all night. And she could turn his perfect ass pink just as easily ten minutes from now.

Licking her boots wasn't his favorite activity – it's part of why she made him do it – but he did like pleasing her. Plus all of the other things she did to him. He would perform so many seemingly demeaning tasks just to get to the ones he really liked. And she was perfectly okay with that.

Once she was done having him lick her boots, she did turn his skin a healthy dark pink. His shoulders, arms, ass, and thighs, all struck by her masterfully wielded crop. She even got a few strikes on his chest. Her handiwork was gorgeous, if she did say so herself.

"Mistress," he panted, "may I have a moment?"

She nodded. "Of course. Get some water. Catch your breath. Then I need you on your back, ready to eat my pussy. I need to relieve some stress before I do anything else to your beautiful body tonight." She dragged her nails down the skin of his chest.

He shivered again and it made a cool, wicked grin spread over her lips. Harvey was the only partner she'd ever found who could withstand some of the things she liked to do. What's more, is that he seemed to enjoy most of them. He could take more impact than anyone she had ever met. His general stamina was impeccable. And he didn't complain when she pulled out bigger and bigger strap-ons to fuck him with.

Maybe in some sadistic part of her brain, she was waiting for the day he would tell her 'No'. Eight years, and he hadn't yet. But that didn't mean he never would. 

When he stretched out on the bed, she took a moment to admire the glorious specimen of man flesh before her. "Damn you are beautiful," she said. She crawled onto the bed. She wiggled herself into position over his face and waited. His tongue and mouth got to work. It was all she could do to stay upright. Was she that damned needy tonight?

She closed her eyes. She let herself get lost in the sensations. Her muscles twitched. Her hips rocked forward and back, coating his face with her fluids. She would make him wear it all night. That thought alone almost pushed her over.

But she made herself wait. She needed him to work hard tonight. She rode his talented tongue another ten minutes before she let herself come. Even then, she spent time smearing his face with her pussy.

Finally finished with that bit of humiliation, she slid off to one side to let him catch his breath again. He didn't seem thrilled about not being able to wash his face, but he didn't outright complain. He never did.

"I really want something in that mouth of yours while I torture the fuck out of your prostate. But I don't know what I want in there," she commented, mostly to herself, but loud enough for Harvey to hear so that sweet, sweet anticipation could build again. "I know you have plenty of gags, but is there a spare cock around we could use?"

Harvey sat up. "I'm going to have to say 'no' to that one," voice firm and serious. "Not without vetting and negotiations." It wasn't quite that full 'no' she was waiting for from him, but it was one that reminded her he wasn't afraid to stand up for himself.

Donna reached a hand out to brush over his hair. "Very well. We can look into that at a later date. Maybe your friend Mike would like to play?"

Harvey arched a brow at her. "He's more your friend than mine. I've just had sex with him twice."

"We'll see," she said. "Now, go pick out a gag for me." While he was doing that, she was setting up the bed in preparation for milking him for a very long time.

She grinned when he returned. "I love that you picked the one that makes the biggest mess." She fastened the gag into place, then had him get into position on the bed.

Donna tugged on a pair of gloves, got her obedient pet all lubed up, then retrieved her first ~~torture device~~ toy. She slid the toy into Harvey's ass to almost no reaction at all. Then she nudged his prostate with it and she would have thought she'd hit him with a live wire. This was going to be fun.

The toy was simple, but very effective. It only took a couple minutes before she heard Harvey groan as the first wave of fluid spilled from his rock hard cock. She left the toy in his ass when she slipped away for a second. She returned with a leather cock ring and fastened it into place.

"Can't have you tapping out on me too soon," she said. Then she curled her fingers around the toy again to resume teasing the fuck out of him.

His cock spilled fluid several times before the one that made him scream in frustration. Donna's grin was wicked and dark. "Oh, honey, didn't I tell you? I don't think I'm going to let you have a regular orgasm tonight." She tapped her fingers against his ass. "I know I'm evil. Just be glad I can't stop you from having them for longer than our session," she told him.

Oh, but she would love to. Maybe she'd look into renting him for a week. That would be the most delicious vacation.

Finished torturing his prostate for the moment, she removed the toy and set it aside. She held up her next 'weapon' and tried to calculate if it was small enough to slide through the ring gag. The only way to know for sure was to test. So she shifted closer to Harvey's head and eased the silicone cock toward the gag. It slipped past the ring and into Harvey's mouth.

"Mmmm – suck on that for me while I get ready," she told him. She got herself ready to fuck him, drawing the dildo from his mouth, casting saliva down his chin and onto the bed below. She strapped it into place.

"Ready, my wicked little pet?" she asked him. He nodded and she crawled up behind him. She guided the strap-on into his ass. He spread his legs, giving her room, and moaned as she sank into him to the hilt. "God, I love your hot, little ass," she breathed.

Harvey didn't say anything. He pressed back against her, wanting her to start moving already. He was a greedy little sub. She knew it; he knew it; and she knew that he knew that it didn't work that way. That she would fuck his hot, little ass when she was good and ready. And nothing he did would ever change that.

"Oh, I get it," she taunted him. "You want me to get on with the fucking. Well, what if I want to make you wait? What will you do then?"

His reply was a half pathetic whimper. It made her smile. She really was in a torturous mood tonight. She was doing a lot to keep him keyed up and unsatisfied. It was really turning her on.

Slowly, gently, she rocked her hips. Not yet pushing and thrusting, just grazing his prostate with her toy. His body tensed, muscles tightened beneath her. She could feel it in her hands and against her thighs. Warm twitches beneath his skin.

"Did you want something?" she cooed across his back. He groaned and shook his head. He did know how to play the game.

Reaching a hand around his hip, she curled her fingers around his cock. The reaction she got from him this time was a half-strangled scream of utter frustration. It shifted into a piteous whimper when she stroked him a couple times.

"You do make the most delicious noises, you know that?"

She wasn't expecting a response, but she got another whimper from him anyway. It made that wicked grin bend her lips again. She really did love playing these games with him.

"You're just dying for me to fuck you, aren't you? Well, my wicked little pet, you'll just have to wait until I'm ready."

'Ready' wasn't much longer. It was the arbitrary time she had determined as 'long enough' for making him wait. It was all for her anyway. Fucking him, hard and fast, working out some frustrations – only some of which were related to having to reschedule her appointment – all for her. Hearing him panting. Seeing him drop first to his elbows, then to his chest, on the bed – his full submission and utter exhaustion – was exactly what she needed.

She reached climax, without granting him permission to also do so, and slid off to one side to rest. "Good boy," she told him, patting his hip.

Grinning at the sight between his legs, she said, "Oh, that looks painful." His cock was red and very hard. She imagined uncomfortably so. She sighed, pondering her options. "Roll over," she told him, spinning a finger in the air in demonstration.

It took him a little while to move into her requested position. She propped herself on an elbow and reached with her free hand to stroke a finger along the sensitive flesh of his swollen cock. His hips jerked up, hard, off the mattress. A very loud, frustrated sound escaped his throat.

"Poor baby, all hard and not allowed to come," she said. She slid her finger back down his cock with similar results as before.

Then she took pity on him, straddled his hips, and lowered herself onto his cock. It was breaking protocol to not use a condom, but she was willing to take the risk this once. She was right about how hard he was. And she should have realized how hot his cock would be. She cursed as she slid all the way down.

While she, slowly, rode him, she smoothed her hands over his skin. She wouldn't be able to rub the soreness out yet, but she could ease a bit of the tension while she got him off.

She could also release the cockring he'd been wearing for a while. He let out an audible sigh of relief when she did. Now she could watch him without worrying too much about any discomfort. His fingers curled around handfuls of the sheets; his legs tensed as he pressed up against her, his face contorted in that confused mix of pleasure, frustration, and pure, unadulterated need.

Donna dipped her fingers between her legs and began to rub her clit. "When I come again, so can you. Do you understand?"

Harvey nodded enthusiastically. Donna rubbed herself as she bounced on his cock. He felt so good inside her that it didn't take long at all. Harvey came so hard he nearly bucked her off his hips.

Immediately following, he was a mostly boneless lump on the bed. Donna crawled off him and reached to unfasten the gag. Gently, she drew it from his mouth and set it aside. She massaged his jaw a little, easing some of the tension she felt there before moving to do the same to the rest of his body. She worked out the stiffness in his shoulders and chest, then his hips and thighs.

"Are you okay, Harvey?" she asked while she was working. He nodded weakly, but lifted his hand in a thumbs up. He was fine. Sore, probably, but fine. "Good, I'll be right back." She started to move but stopped when he asked her to wait. "What is it?"

He waved her closer and whispered something that only surprised her because it was Harvey.

"Of course," she told him. She stretched out beside him and slid an arm across his chest. "As long as you need. I _was_ pretty hard on you tonight."

She stayed with him until he said he was good enough to get up and get a shower. Donna did one better. She got him to the shower, joined him, and cleaned him up herself. It turned out to be just as good for her as it was for him, the hot water working out some muscle kinks.

The water and gentle washing seemed to bring the rest of his brain back online. "So, what's going on?" he asked her while she was scrubbing his calves.

"What do you mean?" she asked, focused on him and pretending she had no idea what he was asking about.

She didn't have to look up to know he was frowning at her. "You've never pushed me that hard before. Something's going on. And it's not just Jessica bumping you for another client."

Donna was quiet for a while, idly washing the same spot on his leg. "There's drama at work."

"You're an actress. There's always drama."

She threw a sponge at his chest. "Life drama, you bastard. One of the guys thinks something happened to him when he went out the other night. I told him to report it. He doesn't want to because he thinks the cops won't care."

"They'll care."

"I tried to tell him that. But, he works in a club some nights. He believes that will hurt his story."

"It might. But the cops will work it anyway."

"I told him that too."

"Donna," Harvey said, "all of this sucks, but it doesn't have anything to do with you. What's really going on?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. Personal shit. I'm not going to bother you with it. That's not what I pay you for."

He gave her a look. One she saw this time.

She smiled back. "You're not my therapist, Harvey."

"My cock and ass beg to differ."

"Yes, I used you to work out some frustration. But, Harvey, really, it's not something you can help me with."

"Okay," he finally relented. "But, if that changes, you know what I charge."

She slapped him on the ass and got back to washing him down.


	8. Chapter 8

Three weeks ago Mike had started putting up his test prep videos. He was eating his Cheerios for breakfast when he pulled up the sales stats for his store. The bowl made a loud 'clank' when it hit the table. He didn't even notice the Cheerios and milk dripping into his lap. He couldn't believe the number on the screen. He thought he had way over-extended on his webspace, but, at this rate, he would need to scale up in a couple months if he added too many more videos.

This really was the best problem he could have with this. He started mentally preparing a blog post to answer some of the questions that were coming in and explain some of his plans for which videos were coming up next. It would buy him a little time before he had the next set of videos ready.

"Hey, Mike, clean that mess up. I don't want you getting shit all over my computer."

He blinked out of his momentary stupor and jumped out of his chair, now that he noticed he was wearing his breakfast. "Huh? Oh, sorry, Louis. Yeah. I'll clean it up." He tried not to drip too much on his way to get some paper towels. "But, you remember when you wanted me to let you know when I made my first five thousand dollars with my video sales?"

"Yeah? What about it?"

Mike pointed to the computer screen. He waited while Louis examined the numbers, looked at Mike, then back to the numbers.

"No fucking way!"

"Way," Mike countered. "Three weeks and that's where I am."

"What are your projections like?" Louis asked as though they were discussing the weather. His disbelief suddenly dissipated.

Mike tapped a few keys to bring up a spreadsheet. "That's the old one based on the first two days."

"Too low. Give me and hour and I'll get everything set up," Louis said.

"What 'everything'?"

"Quarterly taxes, business expense accounts, tax shelters, investment accounts. I told you, this is my passion. I can set you up so you never have to touch a thing."

"And why should I trust you? I've known you for like six weeks." He tossed the pile of milk-filled paper towels into the trash and set the bowl and spoon in the sink.

"I told you, I make enough money in investments to never have to work again." He waved a hand around the room. "Do you think I afford this place on my pay from the brothel?"

Mike, honestly, had no idea what Louis' salary was. Or anyone's. He had no real frame of reference. Except his meager bike messenger earnings. And he knew Louis made more than that. Considerably more. And Louis was right – this apartment was phenomenal. Huge an elaborate, but not overdone. Expensive.

"Yeah, I'm still not sure that means I should trust you with _my_ money," Mike said. Mike wasn't ready to give up control of even just a small part of his life without taking precautions.

Louis frowned, clearly offended by any implication he was dishonest. "I have references."

"Real ones, or just you making funny voices?"

"What?" Louis didn't seem to get the joke and pulled up a list of clients on the computer.

"So, if I call any of these people, they'll tell me you're good with their money and not embezzling?"

"That's what I just frickin' said," Louis spat as though he couldn't believe someone wouldn't just take him at his word.

Mike shrugged. "Cool. I'll check them out and let you know."

"Yeah. Okay." Louis turned to walk away. He looked a little upset that Mike didn't immediately trust him. But, this was Mike's first big business venture and he'd spent years with Trevor taking advantage of him. He wasn't going to let that happen again.

"Hey, Louis," he called, "what's Harvey's usual rate?"

Louis frowned. "Oh, right, you didn't pay the first time. He's pricey. Like _really_ pricey. Are you sure that's what you want to spend your money on?"

Mike hit 'annoyed' pretty fast on that question. "For the first time in my life, I have two things – money and freedom. And I plan to use both of them however I want."

"I think you shouldn't, but I can't actually stop you. Harvey gets at least a thousand dollars an hour." Then Louis disappeared down the hall.

Mike's mouth dropped open and he blinked several times after Louis' disappearing form. A thousand dollars an hour? As a sex worker? Maybe Mike had picked the wrong job doing these videos.

* * *

He hadn't specifically heeded Louis' advice. Mike had only had to wait a week because Harvey was booked. In the meantime, he had vetted Louis and let him set up a number of accounts to protect and run his business. It was kind of nice knowing that he had most of it automated and working for him without him having to babysit it.

It was going great. He'd also put up a couple more videos. He knew he needed to work up a plan for updating the videos as the tests changed and he thought up additional techniques. But all of that could wait until after tonight. Tonight he was going to have some damned fun. He was going to see Harvey under his own terms.

That was the best part. It was on his own terms. Even if he couldn't afford it, if he decided to do it, he could. And no one could stop him.

He had spent more time getting ready than was probably necessary, but he wanted to make a good impression as Mike Ross, budding entrepreneur. He put on a pair of black slacks and a casual button-front shirt. He had left the top few buttons undone, but he had tucked his shirttail in. He felt good about tonight. And himself.

Entering the brothel this time was very different from the other times he was here. This time he felt like he belonged. Like he was supposed to be here. He also noticed, for the first time, the sign outside was for a bed and breakfast. Of course the place wouldn't advertise as a brothel – it would get shut down. But he hadn't noticed the 'legitimate' business sign outside before. He was definitely feeling more like himself in that case, because it wasn't like him to miss details like that one.

He nodded to a few people he recognized from his last visit. The brunette from the portrait in the hallway approached him, a warm smile on her face. He still found her to be amazingly attractive. And she probably knew it too. But, he wasn't here for her this time.

"Hello, Mr. Ross," she greeted him. "My name's Rachel. Is there anything I can get you while you wait?"

"Um, no. I'm fine. Thanks." He realized he was a little early.

"Sure. Have you had the tour?"

"Not from you," he told her with his own smile. She really was very beautiful and sexy. That portrait didn't do her justice at all. Watching her lead him around the house did nothing to make him forget he had been interested in her too.

"And, we're back to the sitting room," Rachel said, concluding the tour. "Harvey's finishing up with a client, then he'll have a quick break and be ready for you. Would you like to wait upstairs or down here with some company?"

He decided to wait with Rachel and the other staff in the sitting room. Someone brought him a drink and someone else rubbed his shoulders. He spoke with everyone who came by. He learned some really interesting things about the people who worked there. They treated each other like family. They took care of each other. They had some really cool hobbies – snowboarding, knitting, juggling, and he thought he heard someone say they wrote poetry. Interesting people.

He also learned a little about the B&B side of the business. It had been established in the late nineteenth century, with the brothel included. Jessica Pearson and Daniel Hardman had taken it over from the previous owners about fifteen years ago. They'd done some refitting and remodeling, but most of the B&B was left the same as it had been when it started. The brothel side had been updated a bit to match with the clientele. Some of the workers from the brothel did side jobs in the B&B too. Mike would have to learn a bit more about this place. It seemed to have a colorful history.

He was almost sad to leave the conversation when Harvey came down to get him. Almost. He'd been waiting too long for this appointment. He wasn't going to pass it up.

"I see you've met everyone," Harvey commented as they climbed the stairs.

"Yeah. Everyone's really nice. Did you know that Harold knits? And he's really good."

Harvey smiled. "Yes. He made me a hat last year for Christmas. Or Hanukkah."

"Did you wear it?"

Harvey shook his head. "No. I'm not outside in the weather enough to need it. But, it's a very nice hat." He motioned Mike into the room. "Are we going to spend the evening discussing knitting patterns, or did you have something else in mind?"

Mike smirked at him. "I'm paying you, so we could talk knitting all night."

"Yes," Harvey said with a nod, "then I would refer you to someone else so it never happened again."

"Got it. Harvey doesn't like to talk knitting." He stopped near the bed and turned to face Harvey. The man was standing by the door, looking expectant. "Oh, you're waiting on me." Harvey raised an eyebrow. "Uh, what if I asked you what you wanted to do to me?"

Harvey was quiet and still for a moment. Then he walked smoothly, gracefully, across the floor toward Mike. "First, I'd get you out of those clothes." He tugged at the collar of Mike's shirt. "Then, I'd have you lay down on the bed so I could get you ready..."

"I'm in. Just show me," Mike said.

Harvey didn't hesitate. He had Mike take off his clothes and lay on the bed. Lube and condoms at the ready, Harvey stripped out of his own clothes and crawled onto the bed with Mike.

He dragged his fingers along the lengths of Mike's legs, sending shivers across his skin. Movements slow and deliberate, he let his hands drift over Mike's hips to his chest. "How long has it been since anyone was good to you, Mike?" Harvey asked.

Mike gulped and took a deep breath. He'd been so focused on how good Harvey's hands felt that he hadn't been anticipating questions. "Um – a long time. Really long." And he mostly wanted Harvey to keep doing what he had been doing.

He knew Harvey already knew that. He also knew Harvey wanted to see if Mike would admit it. "Let's see if we can change that," he said and bent forward to draw a long line with his tongue from Mike's navel to his left nipple.

It got the reaction he wanted. Mike's back arched off the bed and he let out a soft moan. Harvey didn't stop there. He swirled his tongue around Mike's nipple for a bit, then moved to the other one. He could feel Mike's cock growing hard against his belly.

"Harvey..." Mike moaned, one hand gripping tightly at Harvey's shoulder.

Harvey grinned. He slowly, traced a line down Mike's chest, back toward his navel. He felt Mike's body stiffen in anticipation. But Harvey wasn't going there. Yet.

Mike let out a whine when he didn't get what he wanted. That only made Harvey grin more. He kissed Mike's knee and reached for the lube and condom.

He turned preparation into a bit of a production. Just to draw out the suspense a bit longer. He was being a horrible tease and he knew it. But it also served to make sure Mike's focus was centered on what was happening in the room and not anywhere else. Mike appreciated that.

"Harvey..." Mike groaned as Harvey's fingers teased him while he applied the lube.

"Did you need something, Mike?"

Mike grunted. "Fuck me," he panted.

"Gladly," Harvey responded. "As soon as I'm done here." He shifted his fingers to brush against Mike's prostate. Mike's whole body seemed to lift off the mattress. No one had done that to him before. Apparently Harvey suspected as much and did it again.

"Fuck!" came with the reaction this time.

Harvey grinned brightly at the man sprawled on his bed. "Have you never had a prostate orgasm before, Mike?" he asked, letting his fingers dance across that sensitive spot again.

"Ungh, no. God. Does – ohmygod. Does it feel better than this?" he mumbled.

"You tell me," Harvey said. He worked his fingers against Mike's prostate until fluid began to leak from Mike's cock.

Mike's response was a series of gasps and moans with his fingers clutching at the sheets. "Fuck, Harvey!" he panted.

"Is that better, then?" Harvey teased. Mike wasn't amused, but that didn't stop Harvey from teasing him more.

Satisfied that Mike had been sufficiently teased and prepared, Harvey cleaned off his fingers and rolled on the condom. He gave a quick check-in, then pressed his cock against Mike's well-lubricated hole.

Harvey's eyes fell closed as he pushed, easily, into Mike's body. It was tight and hot and Mike was so ready. He was truly relaxed. Unlike the times before. Something had changed. Mike knew it was different. He also knew Harvey wouldn't have any idea what was different for Mike, but Mike could tell he knew it was something good.

Mike arched into Harvey's hips. He wrapped his legs around Harvey's waist. "Please," he begged. Mike wasn't entirely sure what he wanted, but he was sure Harvey would do his best to figure it out.

* * * * *

Actually, Harvey knew what Mike wanted in a general sense. That was easy. That was what most of his patrons came to the brothel for. But the specifics, Harvey was going to have to work those out along the way.

He fucked Mike nice and slow. Deliberate counterpoint to the last time the kid had been here. Clearly he needed something. This time, Harvey was pretty sure it was tenderness. Someone to give a shit about him and to make him feel really damned good. So, that was Harvey's current goal.

Slow and easy, even when Mike pleaded for him to go faster. Slow and easy, even when _he_ wanted to go faster. Slow and easy, because this wasn't about him.

That was a lesson that had been a bitch for him to learn the hard way. Oh, Jessica had tried to tell him. He hadn't listened as well as he'd claimed he had. And he had a string of particularly dissatisfied clients. Until the one day a particular red head came to his room and refused to put up with his egotistical bullshit.

It had taken Jessica twenty minutes to stop laughing. Harvey was less amused. But he got it. And he started getting more and regular clients. Then better clients. Then referred clients. Then so many that he'd occasionally have to turn them away or put them on a waiting list.

Mike's hand gripped Harvey's arm as he shot across his own belly. Harvey wasn't close to ready. He kept fucking Mike. Watching him wriggle and writhe on the bed beneath him in delicious, sensuous movements. Goddamn, it was hot.

He watched Mike's face. As long as it remained contorted in pleasure, and not in pain, Harvey would draw this out as long as he could. Mike's eyes were closed, his head was tipped back. The fingers of one hand gripped the sheets, those of the other, locked around Harvey's forearm.

When Mike's fingers began to clench hard, Harvey eased himself toward climax. Mike's legs stayed locked around his waist until Harvey eased them back to the bed.

He covertly disposed of the condom before he stretched himself out beside Mike on the bed. "Now it's zero," he said.

Mike mumbled a confused, "What?"

Harvey grinned. "Since someone was good to you."

"Uh huh," Mike muttered. He rolled to his side and rested his head on Harvey's shoulder.

Harvey let Mike lay there for as long as he could, letting him rest. Then he said, gently, "I don't want to kick you out, but I have another client coming."

Mike groaned a little, but he didn't outright object. He rolled out of bed and lumbered to the bathroom to get a quick shower. Harvey was lounging on the bed when he came out.

"Feel better?" Harvey asked him.

"Who said I didn't feel good when I got here?"

"No one. I'm just making sure you feel better when you leave." Harvey levered himself off the bed. "It is my job, you know."

"And if I don't? Do you give my money back?"

Harvey shook his head. "No, you get to leave me a bad Yelp review." Harvey stepped past Mike toward the en suite. "I think the girls are still downstairs if you wanted to finish your knitting circle."

Mike turned over his shoulder. "Do you really have another client or are you just trying to get me out of here?"

Harvey stopped and turned around. "I don't rush my clients. And I don't lie. I have a client with a standing appointment. And she is very real."

"Sorry. That was rude. I have some old issues with trust that I'm still working through. I'll get out of your hair."

Harvey gave Mike a conciliatory nod and Mike turned for the door.


	9. Chapter 9

"Wait, Trevor, where are you going?" Jenny scrambled from the couch while Trevor was tugging on his jacket.

"Out. What do you care?" he snapped.

She blinked and fed him a harsh look. "Excuse me? You don't get to talk to me that way just because you're pissed."

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Jenny." He let his shoulders sag. "I found where Mike's staying. Now I have to get him to come back."

"What?! You found him and you didn't tell me?" She slapped his arm. "Goddammit, Trevor."

"I was hoping I'd have him back by now, not that I'd have to go back and find him again." He started for the door.

Jenny blinked at him again. Something wasn't right about this whole situation. Mike had been gone for over a month. They hadn't heard from him at all, except, apparently, this one interaction Trevor had had with him. One he had conveniently failed to mention to her.

"Hold on," she waited for Trevor to face her, "you've seen him and you didn't tell me because you thought you could sneak him back in and I wouldn't question it? Have you lost your damned mind, Trevor?" She was getting angry – actually angry. What the hell was going on?

"When you put it that way, it sounds less good. But I was hoping to get him to come back."

Jenny sighed, putting on her serious voice, and asked, "What if he doesn't want to come back?"

"That's just too bad," Trevor snarled. "This is where he lives. Besides, he still owes me on that loan."

"No, he doesn't," Jenny stated firmly. She walked to the laptop on the desk. She pulled up a spreadsheet detailing the loan and all of Mike's payments. "He paid it off at least six months ago."

Trevor stalked to the laptop. He glared hard at it. "You kept track?" He sounded offended, almost pissed.

Surprised by his reaction, Jenny blinked at him. "No, Mike did. Like any half-smart person would. He wanted to know when he would be done and could start focusing on Grammy." Jenny was stunned by the thought that had just hit her. "You didn't want him to ever finish, did you? You wanted him beholden to you forever. You -" she scoffed, "you are a sick fuck, Trevor!"

"No, Jenny, that's not it!"

"It's not? Because I think it is. It doesn't matter what 'debt' you convinced him you had, you are sick for trapping him like that. He isn't your slave, Trevor. I thought he was your friend. But if this is how you treat your friends, I can see why he'd want to get away from you." She gathered up all of her will and added, "You know what? I don't think I want to be your friend anymore either. Get out!"

"Jenny, wait. We can work this out. I won't make Mike pay off anything else." He took two steps toward her.

Jenny backed away from him one step. "It's too late for that now. Just get out."

"But – where am I going to stay?"

"That's really not my problem now, is it?" She herded him toward the door and pushed him out. "Good-bye, Trevor."

Once he was on the other side, she closed and locked the door. At the same time, she pulled out her phone to search for a locksmith. Trevor was never coming back here. Not by her invitation. And not if she could help it.

* * *

"Rachel, I have something for you," Harvey said as he sidled up beside her while drinking his morning coffee.

"Oh? You're not really the gift-giving type." She looked up at him expectantly anyway. She could be wrong.

"I'm not. But you asked for help with something and I've finally found someone willing to be your guinea pig," he stated, maybe a little crowing in his voice.

She frowned at him. "Huh?"

He grinned and waved a finger, beckoning her to follow. He led her upstairs and to one of the spare rooms. He pushed the door open to reveal a naked man kneeling in the center of the bed. "This is Brian."

Brian was kneeling, yes, but it was casual rather than submissive. Like he was meant to be there. He had brown hair, stylishly tousled, and a nicely muscled body. Tanned, no lines. He wasn't touching his cock, but it was framed between his legs like it should be the central focus of attention. Like he knew people would be looking at it and that's exactly what he wanted.

Rachel entered the room and stopped short. "Fuck, Harvey." She slapped him on the chest. He almost spilled his coffee.

"No, fuck him." Harvey pointed to Brian.

Rachel's eyes went wide. "He's going to let me practice with the strap-on? He's gorgeous. And, I'm pretty sure he's gay."

Brian laughed. "Yes, he's gay. But this is a favor to Harvey."

"And you're okay being fucked by a woman?" Rachel asked him, curious and maybe a little confused.

"If you do it right," Brian said with a grin.

Of course Harvey had brought the harness and a collection of dildos to the room. Rachel got her gear ready and asked her new companion which toy he'd be most comfortable with. Once he'd made a choice, she got herself set up and ready to go.

"Nice," Harvey commented. "And, you know the adage – lube is your friend."

"I do," she confirmed. She also asked Brian how much preparation he needed – if any.

Preliminaries out of the way, Rachel settled on the bed behind him. "So, now what?" she asked Harvey.

He lowered his coffee cup. "You fuck him," he said flatly.

She smiled at him. "Harvey -"

He grinned back. "You make sure your cock is lubed up, then you push it into his asshole. This isn't the complicated part."

Rachel followed Harvey's instructions despite his sarcasm. When she pushed her silicone cock into Brian's ass, she knew she was getting it right, because Brian made a delicious moaning sound. He even pushed back against her.

"Now you move, sweetheart," Brian told her.

Rachel gave Harvey a pleading look. He frowned. Set his coffee cup aside, then stepped up next to the bed. He started to explain, then changed his mind. He crawled onto the bed behind her. He gripped her hips and guided them back, then pushed them forward.

"It's pretty much just that. Speed and intensity can vary as you practice more, but start off slow so you don't puncture anything." Harvey peered over her shoulder. "Oh, and angle just a little downward to make him scream."

"Fuck you, Specter," Brian growled.

"You wish."

Harvey tapped Rachel's ass and told her to keep going, to fuck Brian nice and slow. Brian kind of hated that bit, but sort of loved it at the same time, judging by his reactions.

Rachel did pretty well, but Harvey could tell she was getting tired by the end. He gave her a few pointers for when that happened and let her choose which route to take. A minute later, she had Brian all but writhing on the bed, spilling come all over the sheets.

"Not bad for your first time," Harvey told Rachel. "Get him some water and figure out who cleans up, things like that," he said.

"I'm coming to collect, Specter," Brian panted.

Harvey grinned. "I'm counting on it." Then he gathered his unfinished coffee and left the room.

* * *

Rachel slipped into Harvey's room – allowed when his door was open – and crawled onto the bed to sit next to him. "That was fun. Thank you." She leaned against him, shoulder to shoulder.

"Don't thank me," Harvey said into the book he was reading. "Thank Brian. I don't know too many other gay men who would let a woman peg them."

"Don't worry, I thanked him plenty," she purred and traced random patterns on his arm with one well-manicured finger.

Harvey glanced at where she was touching him and frowned. "What did you promise him?"

Rachel shrugged. "Nothing. I assumed the two of you had already worked out the arrangements. I just told him where to get really good sushi."

Harvey laughed and shook his head. "You would talk food." He turned a page in his book. "And, yes, he and I had already made arrangements." He peered at her a moment, then back to his book. "You and I, however, still have terms to arrange."

"Hmmm, I wonder what you could possibly want from me..." Her fingers walked from his arm to his chest, then downward.

"Not what you think," he responded with a snort, watching her fingers. "If I wanted that, I wouldn't need to jump through quite so many hoops."

"You so wish that were true," she replied with a snort.

"You've been eyeing me since the day you started working here," he stated and turned the next page in his book.

Rachel shrugged. "You're pretty. And, you're pretty much a legend in our circles. But that doesn't mean I want to sleep with you."

"Everyone wants to sleep with me. Even Jessica," he countered.

"Doesn't Jessica sleep with all of the male new hires?"

"Most of them. To test them out, not because she's hot for them."

Rachel erupted into laughter. She was nearly rolling on the bed. "Oh – oh my god, you think Jessica is hot for you?"

"No more favors if you don't get your shit together. And I didn't say she wanted to date me."

"I'm sorry," she paused, trying to catch her breath, "but I still don't see how she would be that into you."

"Is there a lesbian thing I'm missing?"

Rachel shook her head. "No, but she's into more sophisticated guys."

"Get the fuck out of here before I make you blow me."

"I'm not into rape fantasies," she chided. Then she pressed a kiss to his cheek and rolled off the bed.

Harvey lowered his book. "Rachel," he waited for her attention, "you're welcome"

She smiled at him and ducked into the hallway. She was really proud of herself and how she had done with Brian. He'd even offered to let her do it again.


	10. Chapter 10

Mike's phone buzzed while he was riding down the block to his next delivery. He kept the messenger job because it was a steady income. The video business was coming along, but history had taught him not to put all of his eggs in one basket.

The bike messenger gig also served as his gym membership. It was good cardio and decent resistance training. He could probably afford the gym now, but he'd already splurged on that visit to Harvey. And he wanted to splurge on that again rather than the gym.

He wanted to spend time taking Harvey's cock any way he could get it. He wanted to suck Harvey off and watch his eyes roll back in his head. He wanted to hear Harvey beg to come. He wanted...

...to not run into that car door that suddenly opened in his path. He swerved around it with only slightly wobbly practiced ease. His daydreaming would need to wait until later. Preferably when he wasn't working, riding his bike, or both.

He got his head back into his work and finished out his deliveries for the day. One of which was to Avery McKernon. He poked his head into Mr. McKernon's office long enough to thank the man for the 'gift'. Mr. McKernon was glad Mike had enjoyed it and hoped he was treated well. Mike said he had been. Then he politely excused himself before the conversation turned weird, got too personal, or led to something Mike wasn't interested in.

Finally, on his way out of the McKernon offices, he remembered the text message he'd received. He checked his phone. It was from Jenny. Telling him that Trevor was looking for him.

He texted back that he already knew that. He'd had that one unpleasant encounter with Trevor. That had been plenty. He was never going back to that life.

_I want to talk to you._

_Why? So you can lead Trevor right to me? No thanks._

_I kicked Trevor out and changed the locks.  
Wanted to give you the new key._

As much as he liked Jenny, he couldn't help thinking this was a trap. He couldn't let himself get tangled up in all of that again. Not when it had been so hard to get out.

Hell, he still bolted awake some nights, afraid Trevor was around the corner with a gaggle of half-drunk assholes ready to use and abuse him. Or he woke up in the morning thinking he needed to run home so Trevor didn't know he was out. That deeply ingrained thinking was hard to get away from. But, he was trying. And that meant being away from any of the major triggers. Including Jenny. And her apartment. New locks or not.

_Thanks, but I can't._

He didn't answer any more of Jenny's texts that night. She took the hint and left him alone. Though she did tell him she missed him and that he was welcome at her place whenever he wanted.

When Mike got home, Louis was in the kitchen either brewing a potion or trying to make dinner. The smells and amount of noise weren't helping him lean more one way or the other.

He wasn't really hungry, so he tried to slip by without alerting Louis. No dice. The man had the senses of – something with really good senses.

Rather than fight or pout, Mike made his way to the kitchen. "What the hell are you doing in here?"

Louis frowned as though Mike were perpetually stupid. "Cooking."

"Right. What are you making?"

"Nana Litt's lamb stew."

"Okay. Why does it look like a bomb went off in here?"

Louis pinched salt from a bowl and dropped it into the pot of soup he was stirring. "I couldn't find the vegetable peeler."

Mike glanced around the kitchen where it looked like every pot and utensil had been unceremoniously dumped onto the counter. If Louis said this was all about the vegetable peeler, who was he to argue?

"Did you feed Bruno this morning?" Louis asked and Mike almost missed it.

"Uh, yeah. Just like every morning. I even put cat food on the grocery list because it's getting low." By Louis' standards at any rate. "Why?"

Louis shrugged. "He just seemed a little more aloof than usual. Did you give him his afternoon milk?"

"You know milk isn't good for cats right? They don't do well with the lactose."

"What are you, some sort of veterinarian?"

"No, but I do like to read. And once I read something, I understand it. Once I understand it, I never forget it." Mike shrugged and rubbed Bruno's ears, since the cat had decided just now to sit in Mike's lap. "And I read several articles about cats and milk. All the professionals came down on the side of milk being not really good for cats."

"Bruno doesn't have a problem with it."

"No, but his digestive tract does. His ass is vile after you give him milk."

"He's my cat. Feed him what I tell you or find somewhere else to hang your hat."

 _Hang your hat?_ "Fine. Milk for Bruno. But ask the vet next time you take him."

"Yeah. I'll do that." Mike knew he wouldn't. "Now, go set the table. This'll be ready soon. And I promise, you're gonna love it." Louis turned back to the stove and his stew.

Mike was still dubious about Louis' cooking. He didn't do it often, but, so far, nothing had really blown Mike away. However, he was willing to give 'Nana Litt' and her lamb stew a try.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Jessica, I know we've been on good terms for years, but this is the second time my standing – yes standing – appointment has been rescheduled for some mysterious new client," Donna snarled into her phone. She liked Jessica, and her business, but she did not like being bumped from her appointment.

As much as she was certain it wasn't something personal, she couldn't shake a niggling feeling that someone was edging her out. She knew it wasn't Harvey. If he'd wanted her gone, he would have said so and referred her to someone else who was almost as good. Jessica wasn't a viable candidate, because she was a strong businesswoman with smarts who wouldn't be subtle about turning away good money if she had good reason. Hardman was a possibility, but he was also a businessman, so that didn't make sense either. She'd have to think on it more.

"No, I don't want to change my standing appointment to a different day. Tuesday is the only day I'm available regularly. And, not to be petulant or stubborn, but I'm a long-standing client. The new guy will need to pick a different day or time or whore."

"I understand your concerns, Donna. You are a valued client and we will do whatever we can not to lose you."

"Don't blow smoke up my ass, Jessica. Typical platitudes tell me nothing." Donna was not backing down on this. She respected the hell out of Jessica Pearson, but that didn't mean she was going to bend over.

"I'm not blowing smoke, Donna," Jessica told her. "I will see what I can do to allow you to keep your appointment."

"See that you do." Then she said 'good-bye' and hung up. She didn't have time for this. She also didn't appreciate her kindness from the first request being taken advantage of. And she had mentioned she would allow it as a one-time thing.

Besides, as much as she liked torturing Harvey as a form of stress relief and therapy, she didn't want the man to think that was all she wanted to use him for. She liked him. He was an interesting person. Just because he was a whore didn't mean he had no personality.

Quite the opposite, in fact. He didn't tell her much, but every now and then, she would get a tiny taste from his personal life or his past. She had come to treasure those tidbits. They were infrequent, but interesting. She had learned that Harvey had wanted to be a professional baseball player. She had figured 'Sure, like every other eight year old boy', until she realized he had been really good. Scouts coming to watch him play in high school good. Then he'd blown his shoulder and that was pretty much it for his potential trip to the Majors.

She had learned a little about his family too. Which seemed to be the rarest information from him. He had said he was estranged from his mother, though not why. He kept in touch with his brother and his family as much as he dared – they didn't know about his 'profession' and he tried to keep it that way. But the most treasured bits were the ones about his father. They were as rare as anything else, but Harvey would light up talking about Gordon. (That was probably the second thing she learned about Harvey's father – his name.)

Gordon was a musician. And he loved music and his family. He played the saxophone. He sat in on any performance he was asked to join. She had seen a photo of him once in a drawer where she was looking for a t-shirt for Harvey. That was as close as she would ever come to meeting him. He had passed away a couple years back – a fact she'd learned from the local newspaper, since Harvey didn't bring up his personal life much. Though, there had been a conversation once when his father was still alive...

_"Does he know what you do?" Donna asked Harvey, brushing her fingers through his hair._

_"He does, yeah. No one else though. They wouldn't get it."_

_She could understand that. "How did he find out?"_

_"Purely by accident. He was playing a gig down the road. On his way driving home, he saw me leave the building. So, of course, he stops and gives me shit about it. He wants to know what I'm doing at a whorehouse. I could've lied to him, but that would've been more upsetting. So, I told him."_

_"How'd he react to that?"_

_"He wasn't thrilled about it. He asked me why I wasn't in school. I told him that I was, but that I needed a job. This one was pretty simple and it paid well. Then he asked me who else in the family knew. I thought I'd have to beg him not to tell, but he told me he wouldn't say anything."_

_"He didn't want to know how you got into this life?"_

_Harvey shook his head. "I think he was staying in the 'ignorance is bliss' lane. The less he knew, the better. And he made me promise to look for something else when I finished school."_

_"And did you?"_

_He grinned. "I haven't finished school yet."_

* * *

Donna arrived for her regular appointment and Harvey nearly had a panic attack. Had they really double-booked him? Because that would be a logistics nightmare. And he wasn't interested in having to clean up that mess. The last time it had happened had been bad enough. And those two clients were puppies compared to Donna and Gianopoulos.

He didn't think Donna would want to share him. Gianopoulos he didn't know enough about to determine his propensity toward sharing the toys. Tonight was not the night he wanted to test out his negotiation skills. But, all he could do was wait until the set appointment time and hope Jessica had untangled the mess.

There wasn't much he could do anyway right now, except to get ready. So, he did that. Getting showered and dressed in fairly neutral, but appropriate attire.

For a minute, he thought he'd forgotten to eat. But Rachel had invited him to her room for a sort of 'thank you' dinner. One he had originally declined. Then she had said she was cooking and her menu attracted his tastebuds. Rachel was an amazing cook, and dinner had been fantastic. He may have even told her 'thank you'.

A knock at the door drew his thoughts back to his double-booking dilemma. He waited a beat before starting toward the door. He pulled it open. "Jessica. What can I do for you?" he asked her.

"Good evening, Harvey." That was never a good sign. "It appears you've been double-booked for the night." So far, nothing he didn't already know.

"I know. And you should fire the moron who can't remember when Donna's standing appointment is scheduled." It had been the same for eight years.

"I'm sorry, Harvey. And I'll ignore the part where you called me a moron and said I should be fired."

Harvey just blinked at her. He stood by his statement. And had it been anyone other than Jessica, it was very likely they would have been fired for such an error.

"I fixed your problem, Harvey. Donna convinced your other client, _with science_ , that he could use anyone else, or, god forbid, any of the available machines for similar purposes."

Harvey's eyebrows went up. "Donna told my other client to go fuck himself? That's bold." And hot. So many things about Donna turned him on in all of the right ways.

"She was very reasonable," Jessica remarked with a touch of a grin bending her mouth.

"I'm not even going to ask where Gianopoulos ended up."

Jessica smiled at him. "Tony ended up just fine. You're seeing him on Thursday."

"Fuck me," he mumbled.

"What was that?" Jessica asked him in a tone that meant she definitely wanted an answer.

He knew she knew. It didn't matter. "Nothing."

"Harvey," Jessica began and took a seat in one of his chairs, "if you don't want to work with Gianopoulos, just say so."

"It isn't that I don't want to work with him, it's just that I don't want to work with him," he said. Jessica gave him a look. "Rachel wants him. She said she likes what he's into. But I don't know if she's ready for how into it _he_ is."

Jessica grinned at him again. It was really unsettling. "Harvey, are you protecting her?"

He frowned. "No. I'm protecting me. If I unleash Gianopoulos on her without letting her know what she's in for and she hates it, she'll be a pain in my ass for months."

"I think you're full of shit, but okay, Harvey." Jessica rose from the chair. "Are you ready for me to send Donna up?"

Harvey shook his head. "We're going out tonight. I was on the way to figure out the double-booking when you stopped by."

"Very well. Have a good night." She rose, as elegantly as she had sat down, from the chair.

"Thanks." He waited for Jessica to leave, then grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair she had recently vacated.

He made his way down to the common room where Donna was waiting for him. He put on his best smile and greeted her warmly. "Good evening, gorgeous," he said.

"You know I'm mad at you," she said, though she was grinning at his compliment.

"I'll have to make it up to you," he said. Then leaned in close to whisper, "Though it wasn't at all my fault."

Donna grinned at him and took his arm. They stepped out into the cool night air. It was nice. Harvey didn't get the chance to be outside at night often. Sure, he could go out on the small balcony attached to his room when he was working, but it wasn't the same as being out in the city. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling his surroundings. Despite the smell of car exhaust and a mixed scent of clashing foods, he loved it. It was real. It was the human part of the city.

He usually only saw the few bits between the brothel and his condo, and even then, only a couple of times a week when he wasn't working. Maybe he should take a vacation.

"So, where are we going?" he asked his stunning date for the evening.

"Well, I thought we could go for a walk in the park, then let things progress from there."

Harvey nodded agreement. He led Donna down the block. His mouth tipped into a wicked smile and he guided Donna toward one of the horse-drawn carriages. She gave him a confused look, but didn't object.

"Do you always just have a carriage on stand-by?" she asked him.

He grinned. "No. But I knew we were going out tonight and a friend owed me a favor."

"However you arranged it, this is really nice. And kinda fun."

Harvey gave Donna a sideways glance. "Have you never taken a carriage ride before?"

"I haven't. I mean, I was in a production of _Oklahoma_ once, but that's about the closest I've come.

"Then tonight you get to pop your cherry."

"Oh my god! You are the worst." But she was laughing and enjoying herself. Harvey knew he'd made the right decision. To off-set that he started singing "The Surrey with the Fringe on Top". Donna slapped his arm, but joined in when he ran out of lyrics. The carriage driver glanced over his shoulder, then turned back to the front, shaking her head.

Once they finished their song, it was quiet for a bit, then Donna began asking innocent, but probing, questions. Things about his past, about his family – some of which he was sure she already knew – and about baseball. He was okay with it. It was just conversation, but it felt different somehow. And not because he was fully dressed.

"Look, Donna, I'm happy to play this getting to know each other game, but I need to know what your end-game is here. Are we on a date? Are you wanting me to be your boyfriend? Because there's sort of a policy against dating clients. And a policy against significant others hanging around the house..."

"Harvey, stop," she said with an amused grin. "If I wanted to be your girlfriend, I would just ask. I was filling the silence."

He was certain there was more than making small talk. But he didn't press her on it. He dropped his arm around her shoulders for a touch of warmth when he noticed her shiver.

Donna rested her head on his shoulder, letting the quiet take over for a while. She was warm beside him. And he greatly enjoyed her company. He would be lying to himself if he claimed to never have considered what a relationship with Donna would be like. But every time he did, the same questions would plague him – would she be okay if he continued working at the brothel? Would she say she was, only to later reveal that she really wasn't? Would he want to stay? Or would _he_ see it as being unfaithful and have to quit, which would mean finding another line of work? And what job would pay him what he's making now? Not to mention the logistics of describing his job and skill set without revealing that he worked as a high-priced whore. (Because no one would ever believe he was a 'hotel manager'.)

He was proud of his job. He liked what he did, but he also knew that it limited his later job prospects. He'd gotten into investing a little, but it bored him. He loved to gamble, but he couldn't make all of his money playing poker or blackjack. So, he would remain an expensive whore and fund his retirement account and quit either when his dick just wouldn't cooperate any longer or he decided he didn't love it anymore.

Donna tipped her head back. "I know it's not usually allowed, but can I kiss you?"

The question itself wasn't unusual; however, that it was coming from Donna was. Ordinarily, the answer would be an emphatic (but gentle) 'no'. Tonight though, tonight was different. Tonight he was feeling a little vulnerable and a lot lonely. "Sure," he said.

She moved slowly, but deliberately. She knew what she wanted. Her hand at the side of his face, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his, warm and smooth.

It had been so long since he'd kissed anyone like this that he didn't realize he was holding his breath until she tapped her tongue against his lips. He parted them to her and took a good, solid breath at the same time.

Her mouth was warm and inviting. _She_ was warm and inviting. He could see himself breaking some rules for her. And that was incredibly dangerous in his line of work. He could think and fantasize all he wanted, but his self-control would need to ensure he didn't act on any of it.

The kiss drew to a natural close and Donna pulled back slowly. "I could get used to that," she sighed.

Harvey's chest seized for a moment, because he'd been thinking the same thing. And that was a dangerous position for him. Not just with Donna. With any client.

He really liked her. She was a fun and amazing person from what he'd learned of her over the last eight years. But, in many ways, he didn't know her at all. And she didn't know him. He didn't think Donna was falling for him, but he really couldn't be sure. His last relationship with any substance was shortly after he took the job with Jessica. It had gone well for a while, then his boyfriend had started dropping passive-aggressive hints about not liking him 'sleeping around for money'. That pretty much ended the relationship. The one after that, was a lovely woman who split as soon as she learned what he did for a living.

Harvey wasn't eager to travel either of those roads again.

"Did you have any other plans for us tonight?" he asked Donna.

She lifted her eyes to meet his. "Oh, I'm going to ride you like a pony," she answered wickedly. He was not opposed.


	11. Chapter 11

"Are these the options to choose from?" Hardman's newest client asked as he gazed at the portraits on the wall like it was a menu at a fast food restaurant.

Louis looked up from his notebook. "Ah, yes, Mr. Tanner. That is most of them. There are a couple of our newer associates who are still in the probationary period, so won't have portraits done until that period is over."

"I see. Though, I think I've paid enough to have my pick of the litter and not one of the probies," Tanner remarked with a sniff.

Louis smiled tightly at him. This was the type that would act subtle and smooth, then turn and run to the boss to complain. He knew the type well. "Uh - " he checked his notebook to demonstrate his thoroughness, "yes. Though, there are still restrictions."

"I was told there wouldn't be." It wasn't quite the sound of a petulant child, but Louis figured 'give him time'.

"I may have to double check with Jessica on a couple options. But we should be okay. Which one did you want to set an appointment with?" Louis asked, waiting as patiently as he ever did.

Tanner looked at the portraits again. Then, Louis. "Who's available now?"

"Well," Louis consulted a different page. "Harold is available. As are Jack and Monica. Chloe will be free in about half an hour." He looked up expectantly.

"Hmmm. I don't know that I'm interested in any of them. What about her?" he asked, pointing to the portrait of Rachel.

"No, I'm sorry, she's not available to first time clients."

Tanner raised his eyebrows. "What makes her so special?"

"Uh, well, she's new. And we like them to work with some of our regular clientele before handling the new clients," Louis explained.

"Look, I just want a blow job. She can do that right?"

Louis smiled. "Of course." He saw Tanner's face shift to that 'I just got my way' sort of satisfaction. He was going to take that away. "Once you're an established client." Louis' smile never faded.

"So, there's no other way to have this one?"

Louis kept his focus on Tanner. "I'm sorry, no. And, even if you were allowed to choose her, she isn't available. Only the ones I mentioned are available now. And, if you are in the market for an epic blow job, Harold is your man. Trained by the best, but he has a natural talent for the art."

"Fine," Tanner finally acquiesced. "How much and where do I find him?"

"We'll deduct the cost from your account, so you won't have to worry about that. And, let's fill out this one page of paperwork, then I'll take you upstairs to Harold."

* * *

Harold knocked on the door to Jessica's office. She beckoned him inside and invited him to have a seat. Harold closed the door and perched himself on one of the chairs.

"What can I help you with, Harold?"

He took a deep, shaky breath. "I'd like to request that I not have to see that client again," he said, voice a little stuttered.

"Which client?" Jessica asked with a slight frown. Harold was timid sometimes, but he'd never requested to skip a client before.

"The one I was just with," he said to his feet, currently clad in furry bunny slippers.

Jessica consulted a log book. "Travis Tanner?" she asked. Harold nodded. "May I ask why?"

"He... he is an unpleasant man." That was the best he could do for a description of what had happened.

"I'm going to need a bit more than that to go on." She softened her voice. "Did he hurt you?"

Harold shook his head. "No. Not directly. But there is something about him. About the way he speaks to people that just feels – dirty." The encounter hadn't been physically unpleasant, but his words had been dirty – slimy. Nothing remotely erotic or sexy about them at all.

Jessica frowned. "Well, Harold, I can't guarantee you'll never have to deal with him again, but I will have Louis make a note to mitigate your exposure to him."

"I would advocate keeping him away from everyone. There's just something – I don't know – sinister about him."

"Thank you for bringing this to me, Harold. Was there anything else?" she asked him, gently.

"Yes. Can I have a day? I'm not in a good place mentally for seeing clients."

"Harold," she said, "you know that isn't usually allowed."

"I know, but I thought, since its not the weekend, I could take a day and come back fresh tomorrow. I already checked, I don't have any clients on the books tonight. And I can work extra on Saturday if you need."

"Okay, Harold. Just this once," she agreed.

He nodded, grateful. "Thank you, Jessica." Then he rose from the chair and left the office.

He got a few things from his room, changed his shoes, then left to catch a bus to go visit his mom for the evening. A good, home-cooked meal would help wash away the taste of the slimy client.

* * *

Harvey had survived Gianopoulos' second visit, and, while he didn't necessarily dislike being used as a breathing sex toy, he had more than had his fill. He'd cleared it with Jessica. Rachel had been ready for a month. All that was left was convincing Gianopoulos.

"Where are we going, Harvey?" Gianopoulos asked as he followed along down the corridor.

"I have someone who really likes your particular scene. She actually asked me about you before your first visit, Tony." Harvey knocked on Rachel's door and waited.

When she opened the door, she was in a pair of panties and thigh-high stockings, and nothing else. She didn't miss a beat. She canted her hips and tilted her head, her lips bending in a sly smile. "Hello, Harvey," she greeted, her voice smooth like warm honey, her arm bent over her head, her fingers toying with her hair.

"Evening, Rachel," Harvey said, giving her a wicked grin of his own.

"Have you brought me a present?"

"Perhaps. We'll have to see if he likes you first." He turned to Gianopoulos. From the approving look he was giving Rachel, Harvey gathered they were off to a good start.

Rachel grinned. "Well, come on in, boys, and we'll get to know each other." She stepped back to let them into her room.

"This isn't a hand-off?" Gianopoulos asked as he tugged at his tie.

"Not directly," Harvey answered. Meanwhile, Rachel was slipping a robe over her shoulders. It didn't cover much, but it did keep her nipples from being a distraction during their negotiation conversation. "I'll be here during the initial talks and for anything you decide to do tonight. It's a precaution, since you're a newer client with – particular – tastes and I'm familiar with how you work."

"I see," Gianopoulos said. "Then, we should begin."

The preliminaries didn't take long. Then Gianopoulos reached to push the robe away from Rachel's breasts, getting a better look at her. His fingers slid, slowly, gently over her nipples, teasing her skin. She moaned softly, leaning into his hand. Harvey had moved to a chair in an unobtrusive part of the room to watch.

Rachel leaned closer. "What did you want to do first, Tony?" she asked him, tinging her voice with a sultry air.

"I want you on your knees with your face buried in my lap."

A shiver rippled down Rachel's spine. She made a sound like a purr, then slid to the floor. She settled on her knees and reached for the fly of his slacks. He gently guided her hands away and unfastened his slacks himself. He held his cock and guided her head toward it.

"Don't use your hands," he instructed her. He wrapped his fingers around her hair. She caught on and let him control her head, movement, and speed. Fucking her face without doing the lion's share of the work.

Rachel used all of her training and practice – plus all of her straight up excitement at this amazing opportunity – to do exactly what Gianopoulos wanted. This sort of thing was right in her kink wheelhouse. Most of her clients weren't particularly aggressive, so she missed out on some of the things she really liked.

It also helped that Harvey was there. She usually didn't want – or need – a chaperon for her appointments, but she knew this client was different. He was particular about things. And as much experience as Rachel had, she wasn't foolish enough to think she knew enough about this client to handle him if he did something she didn't like, or if he overpowered her. She didn't think he would, but she knew to be careful.

Gianopoulos used her exactly the way she had expected. The way she wanted. Mouth, pussy, ass, all of it. She was little more than a toy to him. And she got off on it so hard.

When he was finished, Rachel was an exhausted lump on the bed. Gianopoulos slipped into the bathroom to freshen up. Lazily, Rachel rolled her head to one side. She saw Harvey sitting off to the side, a delicious little smirk bending his lips. Rachel grinned back and brushed her hair from her face.

Gianopoulos sat on the edge of the bed to check in on Rachel before he left. He gave Harvey a passing nod on his way out.

"I think that went well," Rachel said with a giggle once Gianopoulos had gone.

Harvey's smirk grew to a full smile. "I think he likes you better than me."

"I'm okay with that if you are."

"Sure. I love it when people steal my clients."

"I didn't steal. You gave him to me."

Harvey pushed from the chair and moved to the bed. He pulled a blanket up over her. "Get some rest. I'll decide if we're going to share this client and let you know." He leaned in to kiss her forehead.

"Uh huh," she mumbled and snuggled under the blanket. "He's mine and you know it."

Harvey smiled, ruffled her hair, and turned out the light. He pulled the door closed behind him. He looked up to find Mike coming down the hall. His smile flipped into a frown. "Mike? Did I forget an appointment?" He didn't think he had; there was usually someone keeping him updated on his calendar.

"Hey. Um – no. Sorry. I came by to see if you were free. Louis sent me up," Mike answered. His face shifted to a look of potential disappointment. "Was he wrong?"

"No. I'm free. Come on," Harvey said. He lead Mike toward his suite. He waved Mike inside and stepped in behind him. He got the door pushed closed and turned to find Mike still very close. So close that Mike was almost able to close the distance to kiss him.

Harvey reached for Mike's face and gently guided him away. "Look, Mike, I don't want to quote rules at you – and I know you read them..."

"How do you know that?"

"The same way I know that you've found a hot new income stream and want to celebrate your good fortune." He paused, giving Mike a look. "I read people." And Mike was practically buzzing.

Mike frowned. "You could've found that out from Louis."

"But I didn't. I don't know what you're doing. But you like it and you can do it from home."

Another frown. "How do you know that?" Mike took half a step back, curiosity shifting to a bit of concern.

Harvey grinned. "Pale skin, red eyes, and a bit of a slouch. You could work in an office, but unless you're IT, you'd have more suits."

"Bullshit. No way you figured out anything about me from any of that."

Harvey almost laughed. "No, I didn't. I've spent enough time with you to understand what job you would enjoy. I told you. I read people. It's not really about basic physical attributes." He lifted an eyebrow. "Do you really want me to explain how I know, or do you want to tell me what that attempted kiss was about?"

"I thought you could read people. Can't you just tell me?"

"I could, but you don't want me to do that."

Mike walked over to the bed and dropped onto the edge. He was quiet for a bit. Picked at a thread on his sleeve. "It's been a while since I last had the chance to kiss someone who interested me."

"I understand that, Mike, but rules are rules."

"I know. I'm sorry." Mike's shoulders lifted like he was trying to hide between them. He looked up at Harvey. "Though, I mean, is it just that you only bang guys for money?"

Under other circumstances, Harvey would have booted Mike out of the brothel with that question. "My sexual orientation is none of your goddamned business. But, no, I'm not 'gay for pay'. But that doesn't mean that everything that happens in here is real. A lot of this is illusion. Hell, most of it is. And most of the clients know that because that's what they want. The illusion. It's what they're paying for. My job is like interactive theater."

Mike shrugged. "Yeah. I know that. It's exactly what I wanted the first time for sure."

"And after that?" Harvey prompted.

"Uh," Mike blinked, pausing to pull his thoughts together. "The uh – the second time, I was working out some issues."

Harvey nodded. He already knew that. "And the third?"

Mike's face lit up. His mouth curved into a smile. "That was just because I could."

Harvey smirked. "And you want to know how I know you'd created your own at-home business."

"Fuck you, man."

"If you pay me enough, you can."

"Is this really what you saw yourself doing as a kid?"

Harvey's brows knit together. "I should kick you out for shit like that, Mike." Even if Harvey hated his job, that was rude. He really did have half a mind to kick Mike out. This was two inappropriate questions already.

"It's just – you seem to know a lot about me, but I don't know anything about you."

"We're not dating," Harvey growled. "For a smart kid who claims to know how this works, you're missing it."

"No. I do know how this works..."

"Good. Then you know that me knowing about you is part of my job. It _literally_ is part of my job. It helps me do my job better. And I am so good at it, that it helps me do my job better than anyone else in the city. _You_ knowing about me doesn't help either of us. What would knowing my favorite color or whether or not I like ice cream do for you when your dick is in my mouth?"

Mike held up his hands in surrender. "Okay. I get it. You're a blank slate that gets shaped, molded, and painted at the whims of your clients. No more personal shit."

"Look, Mike, you're a good kid. And, from what I can tell, you're pretty damned smart. What the hell would make you come here rather than finding someone you can actually spend time with without paying them for the privilege?"

"Are you trying to convince me not to pay you? Or to refuse your services?" Mike asked, lowering his hands.

Harvey rolled his eyes. He didn't even try to hide it. "No, idiot, I'm telling you that infatuation with a whore is a lose-lose situation."

Mike bolted off the bed. "Who said anything about infatuation?" Mike snarled. "Fuck this. I'm out." And he stormed out of the room.

That hadn't exactly been Harvey's aim. But, if it got the kid thinking about what he really wanted and where he truly wanted to go, Harvey figured he was doing him a favor. Even if it made his earnings dip a little in the process. They'd recover soon enough. He was that good.


	12. Chapter 12

Mike sulked all the way out of the brothel, down the street, standing in line at the coffee shop, to the table where he sat to brood over the cup of too hot coffee. He wasn't really sure who he was actually angry at: Harvey for being a dick (and maybe being right), or himself for letting it get to him.

No, he decided, he was pissed at Harvey for ruining his night. He had gone to see Harvey, had even been willing to wait had he been busy. He had been kind of excited about it too. Then the talking happened and Harvey clammed up and told him he was acting like a high school girl. Well – fuck him.

"Who, sweetie?"

Mike looked up to answer the question, only to find Donna standing there. He didn't remember saying anything out loud, so that made her sudden appearance and oddly specific question even more weird.

"You know, this bit you do where you randomly show up like this? It's kind of creepy," he said in lieu of a response to her question.

Donna frowned at him. "I saw you sitting in a coffee shop I frequent and I stopped over to say 'hi'. That's all."

"Hi," Mike said flatly. Was it enough to make her go away? He was going to find out.

It didn't work. Donna sat in the chair next to his at the table. "What's wrong, Mike?" she asked, her voice soft and sympathetic.

"Nothing. I'm just having coffee."

She nodded. "Harvey, huh?"

Mike looked up sharply. Then back at his coffee. Kicking himself for being so transparent.

"Honey, he isn't allowed to date the clients."

Mike's brow furrowed. When he looked up this time, he was more angry and less mopey. "That isn't why I was there." And why would that be her first thought anyway? He's never mentioned anything near that to her.

"Isn't it?" she asked. "Mike, I know the look. You're into him. Which, believe me, I get. The man is sex on legs, but he's also a very high-priced, very coveted, whore. It's his job. He loves it. He'll probably die doing it as a ninety-five year old. More than that, isn't really in the cards."

"Why?"

"Do you want to date a guy who takes it every way he can get it, then gives it, six days a week?"

"That's pretty crass."

Donna shrugged. "Maybe, but that's his job. And he enjoys it. Could you handle that? Would you be able to deal with the answer to 'Hi, honey, how was your day?' being 'Babe, my ass is raw from the three-way I did all night and my jaw hurts from going down on some blonde for over an hour'? If you're okay – and I mean _really_ okay – with that being the answer, then maybe you can handle it."

"Are you speaking from experience?" Her examples were very specific – maybe more than necessary, though he figured that part was on purpose to paint the full picture.

Donna gave him a tight-lipped smile. "I'm speaking only truth. I've watched a lot of people go in there thinking they were going to change him and walk out very highly disappointed." She looked at him across the table. "He loves his job. He's not likely to give it up."

"Yeah, you mentioned that." Even if she hadn't, he would've known from talking to Harvey.

"It's worth repeating."

Mike was quiet for a bit, watching the last bits of steam rising from the mug. "But, he's dated before?"

Donna had to smile. "I'm sure he has. But, unless he's kept his relationships under very tight wraps, I don't think it's worked out."

Mike could only sigh. His fantasies would survive, but they'd stay that way, apparently.

"Honey, you can try. I'm just warning you of the large obstacles that'll be in your way."

"You don't think I'm starting from a stronger position? I already know what he does. I don't have illusions that he'll change or want to quit."

"Maybe you are. Maybe you do. Maybe it could work out. But, and this isn't to discourage you, really consider what it is you would be getting into. And really make sure you fully understand how you feel about it before you leap into something." Donna's voice was calm and soothing.

Mike knew she was right. He knew this was both different from a traditional potential relationship, and the same. Like any relationship he would approach, he would need to get to know Harvey. Learn about him beyond his job. Figure out what he liked, what he didn't, things like that. But, there was the added element of what Harvey's job was. He didn't go to an office and sit in a chair at a desk, typing on a computer or answering a phone. But, at the same time, he wasn't likely to get called in for some last minute emergency. So, Mike would have to determine if he would be okay with a boyfriend who had sex for money. Not only sex, though. Also, short, intimate interactions with people. He couldn't even say 'strangers' because not all of them were. Many were regulars.

"I know, Donna. And this is the weirdest thing," he said. "I never would have met him if not for going there to 'patronize' the establishment."

Donna smirked at him.

"And now I don't know what to do." He sighed, his shoulders sagging again.

"Well, make sure it's not some form of hero worship. Harvey's cool and all, but he's not really a hero." She wrinkled her nose. "Well _he_ might think he is. His ego's big enough."

Mike snorted. He couldn't help but laugh. "It really is, isn't it?"

Donna grinned at him. "His ego's not the only 'big' thing he has."

"Oh my god! That is not a conversation for public places."

"We can always go somewhere else."

"I should probably get home. I have some work to do to meet my self-imposed deadline."

Donna nodded. "Good luck, Mike."

"Thanks, Donna."

* * *

"Hey, Harvey, you got a minute?" Rachel asked from the door. She was starting to make a habit of this. He might start charging her.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, then back to himself in the mirror as he was tying his tie. "Not really," he said.

"Harvey, it's..." she glanced over her shoulder, then stepped into his room. She ignored the mild glare. "It's about a client," she said quietly. "I'd thought Harold was being dramatic, but he was right. There is something – off – about this guy."

"Off how?" Harvey tugged the tail of his tie into place.

Rachel folded her arms and leaned against the back of one of his chairs. "It's hard to describe. There's just a vibe. A bad one. Like – he's slimy. I mean, not physically, but you can just tell he's like a snake oil peddler or a lawyer or something." She shivered at just the thought of him.

"That's it?" he asked incredulously into the mirror, one eyebrow lifting upward.

She glared at him. "What? I'm a woman so I must be overreacting?"

Without missing a beat, Harvey responded, "Not at all. I need more than 'he just felt wrong'. I get what you're saying. And you should trust your gut, but what did he _do_?"

Rachel gathered her thoughts a bit, then. "He – the best way to describe it is – he walked right on the line of going too far. Like he's been doing this for a long time and he knows exactly how much he can get away with. And he prides himself on pushing that envelope."

"Is he getting into your head?"

She frowned. "He tries. And I don't know if he does it and it's really subtle so you almost don't notice or if he presses right up against those barriers without quite pushing through." She gave Harvey a hard look. "But, I do know it was really uncomfortable."

"Did you tell Jessica?"

"Not yet. I wanted to use you for my test run."

His mouth bent in a smarmy grin. "You needed me to help you put it into words."

"Isn't that what I said?" she asked with a wicked grin. Then she turned and sauntered out of his room.

She passed Louis on her way. He stopped her to ask about her next appointment with Tony Gianopoulos and if she was ready. She told him she was always ready for Gianopoulos. One appointment and he was already one of her favorite clients. She'd have to keep that under wraps. But she really did like working with him.

Gianopoulos was rough with her sometimes. Other times he treated her very much like a sex toy. And she loved all of it. He was supposed to be in tonight, but he hadn't made an official appointment yet, so she was on stand-by.

On her way down the stairs, she ran into Mike. "Hey, sugar," she said with a smile.

He smiled back. "Just the person I was looking for," he said.

"Really?" She was surprised. Usually Mike came to see Harvey. Sure, he talked to Rachel, but he had sex with Harvey.

"Yes. Are you busy now?"

"I have about an hour," she said and ran a finger along his jawline.

"I don't need that long." Then he stopped talking and walking. "I mean, I'm very good and can go many times to..."

"Quit while you're ahead, Mike." She led him to her room and opened the door to let him in. Down the hall, she caught a glimpse of Harvey watching. Stepping into the room, she pushed the door closed behind her.

"Now, what can I do for you, _Michael_?" she asked, giving his name a soft lilt as she spoke.

"Mostly, you can come over here so I can look at you. And undress you. And feel you."

Her lips formed an 'O', but she didn't make any sounds. What he was saying was very nice though. If he planned to be smooth and gentle with her, it would be a nice warm up before Gianopoulos got hold of her.

Mike touched her. He skimmed his fingers up her legs to unhook her garters. He found the fasteners on her corset and undid them one at a time. Slowly.

It probably took him ten minutes to take off the few articles of clothing she was wearing. It was really nice. He let his hands smooth over every inch of her skin as he unveiled it. Then he wrapped his lips around her nipple and it was even better.

She let out a short little laugh. When Mike asked her about it, she brushed it off as being ticklish. The reality was that she sort of knew this routine. She was pretty sure this was how Harvey handled those clients who needed someone to make them feel special. What she didn't know was where Mike got it from.

Maybe this was just Mike. Maybe this was how he thought she wanted to be treated. If that was the case, he wasn't wrong, but he could have thrown her down on the bed to the same effect. Maybe he was trying to prove something to himself. It didn't matter to her. Like they say – the price is the same.

By the time Mike was done, she was warm and relaxed. She lay sprawled on the bed, smiling. "That was nice," she said. She rolled her head to look at him where he'd sat up on the bed. "Was there anything else you wanted to do before your time's up?"

"No. Thanks, Rachel," he said flatly.

"Do you always look this despondent after sex?" She might be a little offended if he looked like that after being with her. She was good at this. Not as good as Harvey, but she was no slouch.

"What?" He turned to face her. "No. Sorry. I'm just a little distracted."

She stretched a leg to trace a toe along his thigh. "I thought _I_ was the distraction."

"You are. But I have a very busy brain, so there are others."

"Maybe you should take a quick nap with me then," she suggested. "We've still got ten minutes."


	13. Chapter 13

Jessica liked to wander around the house when she got the chance. She was usually busy with business matters – for both the brothel and the B&B – and didn't get to spend time chatting with her employees as often as she would like. So, when the opportunity presented, she took a little extra time to sit in the main parlor or in the common room off the dining area.

Today, it was the common room. Several of the girls were in there. As well as a few of the boys. There was a serious game of Connect Four going on at one side table. And a couple of girls talking to Harold about something that was holding his interest. It made her smile.

She took a seat in an empty chair, crossing one elegant leg over the other. For a long time, no one seemed to notice she was there. Then Rachel came over to sit in a nearby chair. "Good morning, Jessica," she greeted. "Can we help you with anything?"

Jessica shook her head. "No," she said. "I'm just people watching." She smiled easily. "I like interacting with everyone. But I don't get to do it as often as I would like."

"That's too bad. We're fun people."

That made Jessica laugh. "Yes. Yes you are. And I would have a lot more fun if running a business didn't get in my way."

Rachel tilted her head. "You need to get out more. Like, a spa day or something."

Another laugh. "That's not a bad idea," she said. "Any good spa recommendations?"

"A couple," Rachel answered with a nod. "I'll get you the information on them." Rachel's eyes lit up. "Oh, there's one that has the best massage therapist. His name is Enrique and he has magical fingers."

Jessica grinned. "I will take that under advisement. Thank you." She could definitely use someone with 'magical fingers'.

Rachel's smile was bright and airy. Jessica knew the girl thrived on encouragement and positive feedback. She also knew that Rachel absorbed every bit of advice she was given. And had, somehow, endeared herself to Harvey to the point where he didn't seem to complain about helping her. Jessica had an interesting collection of employees.

Rachel was getting ready to talk about a new subject when Hardman stuck his head into the room. He insisted he needed Jessica for something. She excused herself and walked with Hardman down the hall. "What is it, Daniel?"

"I've heard a couple of our people are not happy with one of my special clients. They're refusing to see him."

"Well, Daniel, if they're not compatible, there isn't much we can do. And they are free to refuse service if they choose to do so. Perhaps you can find someone who enjoys the same activities as this client of yours and put them together," she suggested. She knew exactly which client Hardman was referring to. And she had no intention of subjecting anyone to him more than once if they requested it. Not after she'd had multiple people mention it to her.

Hardman stopped and turned to face her. "Jessica, these people work for us. They do what we tell them to do."

"They do. But, Daniel, they are also people. And since they are, this gives them the right to say 'no' to things they object to."

"It does," he agreed. "However, we can fire them for refusing."

Jessica's eyebrows went up. "You would fire multiple members of the staff for not wanting to work with one - _one_ \- client?" she asked, punctuating her point by holding up her index finger. "That seems like a poor business decision to me, Daniel. Everyone we have here has built a client base. A client base they would happily take with them elsewhere. I would rather lose your one, overly demanding client than twenty regulars who don't upset my staff."

"This client could be very big for us, Jessica."

"I'll tell you what, if he doubles our revenue without upsetting any more staff, we will keep him as a client." She paused for effect, then, "Oh, and he has two weeks."

"Are you challenging me?" Hardman asked her, tipping his head slightly to one side.

"No, I'm trying to run a business and more revenue is always a good thing. If he can bring it in without also being a liability, I'm happy to have him." Though she wasn't sure why she needed to explain Business 101 to her _business_ partner. She was, however, certain that Hardman's client wasn't going to be good for the business at all. The two weeks she'd allotted were a gift. It was longer than she would prefer, but just long enough to not overly insult her partner and his client.

But, if she had anything to say about it, Travis Tanner wouldn't be on their client roster for long. No matter who he was friends with.

"Very well, Jessica," Hardman agreed. But, she knew there was a counter coming. "If he does increase our revenue, your golden boy has to host him twice with no complaints."

"Harvey will never go for it."

"He will if you tell him to."

"Harvey doesn't do anything I tell him." And it was frustrating as hell most of the damned time. If he wasn't as good as he was, she would have booted his ass years ago.

"And you don't think that's a problem?" Hardman asked. "If you can't keep him in line, Jessica..."

She held up a hand to stall him. "Daniel, he's fine. He does his job. He's good at it. His clients love him. And the rest of the house respects him. If you want him to agree to this ridiculous challenge, you'll have to ask him yourself." She began to walk away from him, but stopped and turned over her shoulder to tell him, "Oh, and the limits are still the limits, and are not to be broken."

* * *

"Hey, Mike. How are the videos going?" Louis asked, padding through the living room naked. Mike had repeatedly, and politely, requested Louis not wander around naked in the common areas, but Louis always gave him a speech about the apartment being his and some need to be free.

Mike wanted to counter that since he was paying rent, that argument wasn't valid, but, he liked having somewhere semi-safe to live. So he kept his mouth shut. For now.

"Good, actually," he answered. "Sales are up and I have a video in editing set for launch at the end of the week." He was really proud of this business. It was so much better than his original idea of taking the tests for people. Already he had people posting reviews saying they'd improved their scores by a considerable margin. It was really nice to see that.

For now, he was still able to do all of the work on his own. He had also vetted Louis' investment options and set things up there as well. That did mean his finances were a bit more complicated, but he had that under control at the moment. Even if he was considering the value of a good accountant.

"You check your investments?" Louis asked.

"Of course. Those look really good too. It's all good. And, if revenue stays steady, I might be able to afford my own place in about six more months."

Louis, on his naked way out of the living room, stopped and turned to Mike. "You don't like it here?"

"I like it here just fine," Mike replied, looking anywhere but at Louis' middle. "But, I've spent the last several years of my life almost wholly dependent on other people. Once I have a decent emergency fund in place, enough money for first, last, and possibly a deposit, plus most of a year's care for my grandmother, I'd like to find my own place and move out. I want to live on my own. In my own space. In control of my own life. All of it."

"Yeah. Okay. I get that. You said six months? If your investments hold – even if your business slips, you'll be good by then. And, if you need to update your portfolio, you'll let me know, right?"

Mike nodded. "Of course."

He was confused by Louis' reaction. And not at all sure if the man was genuinely encouraging him and excited, or hiding something. No matter, Mike had his plan and, for the first time in years, he knew where he was going. He liked that.

* * *

Harvey drew his phone from a pocket and glanced at the screen. She didn't usually call him at all, so he was both intrigued and concerned. He answered the call, "Hello, Ms. Paulsen. Is something wrong?

"What?" she asked, semi-startled on the other end. That was a good sign. "No. Everything's fine. I'm having my nails done so my hands aren't available for texting.

Her voice was bright, which was nice. She was in a good mood. He was still confused though. "Well, that's good. How can I be of service?" Which was the polite version of 'Why did you call me?'

"I am making my holiday plans and wanted to know if you were available to attend a few parties with me."

Harvey frowned. He crossed to his desk to look at his calendar. "You're planning for Christmas parties in October?"

Donna laughed. "No, Harvey. I mean, I do do that sometimes, but no. Halloween parties."

That made a lot more sense. "Halloween, huh?" She's never asked him to go to parties before. Movies and dinner and that one disastrous cocktail party, but not anything like this.

"Do you need to check with your boss first?"

"Yes, actually." He would need to make sure he could be tied up for an entire evening without hurting Jessica's revenue. "I'll need to make sure I have the whole night free. Are these parties on Halloween or surrounding dates?"

"They're all on Halloween," she answered cheerfully. Clearly she liked Halloween. A lot.

"I assume I'll need a costume." Unless the holiday had changed in recent years.

"Of course," she said brightly. "If you're short on ideas, I have plenty." He didn't doubt that at all. Donna was always full of ideas. For everything. Her imagination was incredible.

He scribbled a note in his planner. "I'm intrigued about what you'd put me in."

"Oh, I have several carefully cultivated options." Her voice was mischievous this time. It was still intriguing, but also, just a bit terrifying.

"Is there a chance I'll be anything other than naked for any of them?"

She laughed in his ear. "For the more public parties, of course."

"I'll polish my loincloth."

"I'll send you more details when I have them."

"Sure. And I'll make sure Mom will let me stay out after curfew."

He could almost hear her eyeroll through the phone. "You're an idiot. If you weren't so damned sexy..." She trailed off as she disconnected the call.

She got away with things like that because she was his best client. Though, if he thought about it, even without the money, she'd still get away with it. She had the best personality. He enjoyed his time with her more than many of his other clients.

That was dangerous in his line of work. Not favoring one client over others, but letting himself think too much about their time together. Or, worst case scenario, falling for a client. Though, not because it would be a loss of income, but because it could be awkward and terrifying. He had had a stalker client once – something he would rather not repeat.

His phone chirped to remind him of an appointment. He double checked the items in his overnight bag, then closed it up. Phone in hand, he called for his ride on the way out the door.

* * *

The train ride out to upstate New York was pleasant and uneventful. As chaotic and high energy as his life usually was, sometimes he liked a bit of calm quiet.

He'd made his usual stop at the liquor store on the way out to the cemetery. Two bottles – one was a 'gift' to the man who let him in. The other was for his dad.

Harvey walked through the grounds to his father's plot. His chest tightened as he approached. He didn't come here often. He didn't really have the time. But he had made a point to carve out one day in October each year to visit his father. Three years and it still hurt as much as it did when he got the news.

His father had called while he was with a client. He'd told himself he would call him back when he had a break later. He never got the chance to make that call. Jessica had interrupted a session with a different client – that's how he knew it was important – to give him the news. She had offered to clear his calendar for the day. He had told her not to and had finished his appointments. It had taken a lot of convincing and prodding from Jessica (and Donna during one of her appointments – he hadn't even asked her how she knew) to get him to go to the funeral. Despite the confrontation with his mother, he was glad he'd gone.

He poured out two shots of Macallan, lifted one in a silent toast to his father, and knocked it back. He missed his father. Even when he'd disagreed with Harvey's career choice. Ultimately, he'd said that if Harvey was happy, he would be supportive. Harvey really did love his job. Not just because he was good at it, but because he liked that he had the power to make people feel better than they had when they'd come in. Even when they fought it.

His father hadn't fully understood, but he hadn't been judgmental. And that was important to Harvey.

* * *

Mike was out getting some items from the nearby bodega when he was ambushed. Trevor stepped around an aisle and told Mike he needed his help. "No, Trevor," Mike stated flatly and moved away from him.

Trevor didn't take the hint. "Mike, wait. I need a place to stay for a while."

"I can't help you. It's not my place. I don't own it." Mike wanted to be out of this conversation. It was taking a lot of mental energy for him to focus and to search for the pitfalls he had always fallen into before.

Trevor frowned, deep and angry. "Oh, so it's okay for this new guy to fuck you..."

Mike cut him off. "Stop, Trevor. I'm not helping you. You can't stay with me. I'm not giving you money. Nothing. You have to figure it out on your own, just like I did." He stepped around Trevor and headed for the till.

Trevor kept following him. "You owe me, Mike!"

It was all he could do not to spin around and punch Trevor in the mouth. Instead, he took a deep breath as he put his items on the counter for the clerk. He turned and glared at the man who had once been his best friend. "Trevor, I owe you nothing. If anything, you owe me. Now, get out of here and leave me alone before I get the cops involved."

That seemed to make Trevor back down. He didn't look happy, but he left the bodega without further incident. Mike was sure this wouldn't be the end of his confrontations with Trevor. But, for the moment, he could finish shopping and go home.

* * *

It had taken Trevor a month to scrape together enough money to book the appointment, but he was determined to make Mike pay. He knew what Mike's roommate did for a living. That had been easy to figure out. Figuring out the part where Mike had a little crush on one of the whores had been harder to piece together, but a little careful eavesdropping had netted him good results.

Once he had that information, there was only one option.

Trevor arrived on time for his appointment. He'd pulled out one of his dark suits and had it cleaned just for tonight. He wanted to look the right part.

The tall, light-haired man descended the stairs. He was hot. Trevor could see the appeal. They spoke briefly, making sure everything was in order, before they went up to Harvey's room.

He told Harvey what he wanted, then bent him over the bed and fucked him hard and fast. It was mildly therapeutic and really good sex. But it wasn't really why he was there.

Why he was there was more – personal. More revenge-oriented. He started just talking – a little small talk at first, then moved into some random statements about his friends and girlfriends. It was a good lead-in to his intended topic.

"I mean, I had a friend who was turning tricks for his roommate in exchange for room and board," Trevor said as he leaned back against the headboard.

"So, you have a thing against sex workers?" Harvey growled.

"Not at all," Trevor backpedaled. "But they should be a little more discriminating, you know?"

Harvey gave him a hard look. "The clients you take pay the bills. Sometimes you take clients you might not otherwise to keep food on the table." Trevor was getting the feeling that Harvey meant that as a pointed comment.

"Yeah, and sometimes Mike is a big ho and takes everyone," Trevor blurted. He hadn't meant to, but it pushed the conversation in the direction he wanted.

Trevor couldn't believe Harvey gave no reaction to that at all. No facial ticks. No eyebrow shifts. Nothing.

"I'm not sure why you're here paying to fuck me when you find the idea so reprehensible."

Trevor shrugged. "I didn't really come here to fuck."

"No, you came here to convince me that your former roommate is a horrible person because he got paid to fuck around."

"I never said he was my roommate."

"You didn't have to. But you do have to go." Harvey pointed to the door.

Trevor didn't argue. He slid off the bed, gathered his clothes, and stepped into the _en suite_ to clean up before he left. He wasn't sure if he'd accomplished his goal entirely, but he'd told Harvey what he'd wanted to tell him.


	14. Chapter 14

"Do I even want to know what you've picked out for me to wear?" Harvey asked as Donna strode into his room like she owned it. For what she'd paid Jessica over the years, she very well might.

Donna grinned wickedly at him. "I was going to put you in nothing but a collar and leash, but New York has public decency laws." She opened the overnight bag she had brought along and made a show of pawing through it as though she were Mary Poppins and she had everything but the kitchen sink in there.

Harvey was fully impressed with the items she removed from the bag. Genuine tooled leather, cut and stitched with great care, if not by hand. The woman had taste for miles. All told, it was five or six pieces, but still left him rather bare. There would be little imagination needed to see the muscle definition of his chest and legs. He grinned at her. "A gladiator? Who are you going to be, Cleopatra?"

Donna sneered at him. "Of course not. I am the embodiment of several famous and powerful women of ancient Rome. There are just too many amazing women to pick just one. But you... you I think I'll address as Tiberius."

Harvey arched an eyebrow at her. "How _Star Trek_ of you."

"And Roman."

"I like my way better."

"Go get dressed." She shooed him away.

He changed next to the bed. Obviously, this wasn't the first time she'd seen him naked. (Likely not the last either.) Finished, he stood before her, arms outstretched.

"God damn, you are sexy, Specter." She looked him over thoroughly. "Get your coat. It's party time."

* * * * *

She paraded him around several parties. At most of them, he wasn't even the least dressed. He saw several women wearing little more than g-strings, pasties and glitter powder. In his gladiator kilt, he looked over-dressed by those standards. However, the most important part of the evening, was making sure Donna was enjoying herself. From the brilliant smile on her face and the joyous bubbling laughter, he would call it mission accomplished.

Around eleven, they were leaving one party and heading for another when she stopped him. She asked him if he was alright with her putting a collar on him for the rest of the evening. Seeing no evident reason to distrust her, he agreed. She fastened a leather collar – the same color as his costume – around his throat, then attached a matching leash to a ring on the front.

She leaned in to whisper in his ear, "When we reach the venue, that tiny flesh-colored scrap beneath your kilt has to go."

A strong shudder of anticipation rippled down his spine and settled right in his cock. Half of his skin tingled during the entire car ride to the venue. And she wasn't even touching him. At all. The woman knew what she wanted and knew how to push his kink buttons.

True to her word, before she would let him out of the car, she requested the removal of the all-but-non-existent underwear he had on. He relinquished them without protest. He stepped from the car, the brisk October air finding its way beneath his kilt and chilling every inch of uncovered skin. He gave a little shiver before he reached a hand into the car to help Donna step onto the sidewalk. From this point, he would walk at her heel unless otherwise instructed.

The venue was amazing. Decked out fully for Halloween with a bit of a 'passing through history' theme. Donna handed over an invitation to the nymph at the door, then they headed inside.

Harvey took in the impeccable decorations, as well as the sway of Donna's hips as she walked. Her walk when in 'Mistress' mode was different from her everyday walk. More deliberate. More hips. He liked it.

She led him to a large room decorated to resemble a pirate ship at one end and a castle at the other. Somehow, the merger of time periods worked together. There was a bar on the pirate side and a display of tantalizing 'torture' devices on the castle side. Along the walls were couches and benches and large cushions, usually with a table nearby.

The images of people snuggling, or playing scenes, or just sitting with each other and talking was getting him excited. Donna was paying him to be her date for the evening, but that didn't turn off his natural instincts. Or suppress his personal tastes.

Donna stopped walking in order to speak to someone for a moment. Harvey didn't recognize the woman, but Donna clearly did. Their conversation was friendly and animated. Harvey stood behind and to Donna's right. He used the time to look around the room a bit more. Many people were in costume, but almost as many were naked. And they all appeared to be enjoying themselves.

He was listening enough to know when Donna had finished her conversation and was ready to proceed when she did. She led him to a small alcove with a view of the room. It had a long, plush couch, several cushions on the floor, and a small table to one side. She directed him to kneel on one of the cushions. At the same time, a man approached with bottles of water and asked if they wanted anything else before disappearing once dismissed.

"You really are delicious in that outfit," she told him, stroking her fingers along his bare shoulder and upper arm.

"Why thank you, Mistress," he responded, the drinks he'd had throughout the evening making him a little cheeky.

She smiled. "Mmmm," she purred. "I think tonight, I will let some strangers warm you up before I take my turn. Unless you object?"

"As long as Mistress is present, there should be no objections." That was a firmly established limit – she could ask him to do almost anything, or anyone, as long as she didn't leave him alone. There had been an incident once (not involving Donna) that had taken a scary turn. Never again.

"Always," she whispered. She pressed her lips to his neck, earning a warm shiver from him that she really liked.

* * *

This sort of party wasn't his usual affair, but he could wear a mask and be unrecognizable all night if he wanted. Besides, Jenny thought it would be fun. And that Mike needed to get the hell out of his apartment for a while.

Jenny was right. He'd been holed up working almost non-stop on new videos and needed a break. Plus, it was Halloween. So, he and Jenny had gone shopping for some super-revealing costumes to wear to the party she'd been invited to. It was part of their 'making up' day after their tiff from a few weeks back. They still wanted their friendship to work.

About a week before, he'd almost changed his mind when he realized the venue was a BDSM club. But, he also knew he'd never be able to get into the place any other way. The new experience won out over the irrational fear.

The party theme left costume options wide open. He and Jenny had spent hours trying on outfits and scouring ideas. He'd finally settled on a masked bandit like Zorro, but with a decidedly more _shredded_ outfit. Jenny was a saloon girl, in little more than a corset and stockings. She looked really hot, which was the ultimate goal, after all.

Jenny was just as impressed with the décr as Mike was. They walked around, mouths agape, staring in wonder at everything as they moved through the main room, trying not to bump into anyone. Every few feet, one of them would point out some new detail that was breathtaking or clever. It was really spectacular and they'd only just walked in.

Nervously, Mike asked Jenny something he'd been rehearsing for a week: "Hey, are you cool if the two of us don't – you know – play together? I mean, like do things to each other?"

She smiled warmly at him. "Of course, Mike."

"Oh, good. I was worried you were expecting..."

She laughed at him, but he knew it wasn't malicious. "If I was, I would have told you that up front. We're here as friends. Go, fuck whomever you want." She stretched up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

"You're a weird friend." She grinned at him in reply. "Hey, let's go watch that guy get paddled by that jester!" Mike suggested.

Jenny giggled agreement and took his hand to lead him across the floor.

They spent a couple hours watching various demonstrations and doing their own things before meeting up at the bar for a drink. While discussing their myriad adventures, Mike caught sight of a pair of familiar faces. His heart leapt into his throat and he downed his drink faster than he otherwise would have.

"Mike? Are you alright?" Jenny's voice was hushed and tight.

Mike swallowed. "Yeah. Just saw someone."

"Good someone or bad someone?" Now she was a little cautious, her hand rested on Mike's arm.

"Good," he said.

"Ooh. So, go see if you can play with them," Jenny encouraged.

Mike blinked, then focused on Jenny. "I would, but he's occupied at the moment." It was difficult tearing his gaze away from Harvey. Harvey, who was obediently on his knees, sucking the cock of a tall slender man with a vaguely familiar profile. Mike was sure he'd seen the man before. That didn't matter. He was watching Harvey's tongue and lips work expertly over the semi-familiar man's cock. It took Mike back to that first visit to the brothel when he'd requested a blow job and had gotten the best one of his life. From a complete stranger who seemed to give more fucks about him than anyone since his grandmother.

Jenny rubbed a hand up and down his back. "So, watch him give that really hot blow job, then go over there," she amended. Jenny really was a great friend. A little evil, but great all the same.

He couldn't help letting out a snort of laughter. "Okay, but when I do, no peeking."

She held up her hands. "I make no promises."

Mike shook his head and ordered another drink so he could watch and wait.

Even once Harvey was done, he didn't immediately rush over. He gave the man a few minutes to recover.

He finished his drink and returned the glass to the bar. "Remember, no peeking," he told Jenny as he slid off the stool. He made his way across the floor. He stopped in front of Donna, hoping she didn't recognize him under his mask and hat. He put on the pseudo-Spaniard accent he'd practiced to ask, "M'Lady, would you mind terribly if I fucked your slave?"

She blinked up at him, her eyes lighting up with both mischief and glee. His exaggerated manners were working in his favor. "Fucking him out in the open for all to see? You truly are a bandit, _señor_ ," she responded, tossing a bit of accent to the final word.

He nodded his head. "I am," was his only reply.

Donna waved a lazy hand to a bowl of condoms and a bottle of lube on the table at her elbow. Then she spoke to Harvey, "Come here, my pet, I want your face in my lap while the bandit takes your ass."

Mike felt his already hard cock twitch in his tattered costume pants. He tried not to stare as Donna shifted the skirt of her garment out of the way to give Harvey easy access to her. He focused his attention on gathering up a condom and the lube, then kneeling on a cushion behind Harvey.

He felt the tiniest pang of guilt for hiding his identity. It lasted until Harvey wiggled his ass and it brushed against Mike's thigh. Mike shifted the leather flaps of Harvey's kilt out of the way and used his fingers to slowly prep him with the lube. He heard Harvey moan and looked up to catch a wicked grin on Donna's face. He took that as a good sign.

Maybe he spent a little extra time teasing Harvey's prostate during the prep work, but he didn't figure the man would mind at all. He glanced up again when he heard Donna speak. "As soon as he puts that cock in you, I want your face in my pussy, Tiberius."

"Of course, my Mistress," Harvey choked over a blocked moan.

Now Mike had a bit of incentive to hurry, but, he also figured, if Donna wanted to rush him, she'd be pretty direct about it. He didn't speed up any of his movements, but he concluded his preparations shortly after Donna's order to Harvey. (Though, he was curious about 'Tiberius'.) He used a towel someone had provided him to wipe off his hands, then gave his condom-clad cock a quick coating of fresh lube. Another quick hand cleaning, then he settled into position and slid himself into Harvey's waiting ass.

It was Mike's turn to moan. Sure, he'd fucked Harvey before, but there had been some hard, grinding emotions driving that. And Harvey had known it was him. This wasn't the same. This was on Mike's terms with no financial burden hanging over him at all. This was mostly anonymous sex at a Halloween party. In a bondage club. With people watching. But he tried not to think about that. He wasn't really much of an exhibitionist, but his masked bandit persona seemed to be.

He moved his hips in a steady rhythm, trying to feel as much of Harvey's body as he could. His eyes were closed and he was focused on what he was doing. But he wanted to see Harvey. So he opened his eyes and caught sight of Harvey's head buried firmly between Donna's legs. How had he forgotten about that part?

A warm shiver rippled down his spine. He wasn't sure he could imagine a hotter scenario. Not right now with his cock buried in Harvey's ass. He heard Donna moan happily, clearly Harvey was doing something she liked. It made Mike's insides warm.

He wanted to make Harvey come, but wasn't sure that was allowed. And he didn't have enough focus to ask in his affected accent. It didn't matter anyway. He came with a rough groan, his fingers digging hard into Harvey's hips.

As much as he wanted to linger and relish the feeling of Harvey's ass around his cock, he didn't want to blow his cover. He withdrew – slowly. Took a deep breath. Then he pushed to his feet. He gave a brief bow, a _gracias señora_ , then turned to head back to the bar and find Jenny.

* * * * *

Drink in hand, Jenny sidled up next to Mike at the bar. "Okay, first, that guy was totally hot. Second, you were beyond into him."

"Doesn't do much good to fuck someone you have no attraction to or interest in," Mike commented as he sipped a fresh cocktail.

Jenny grinned at him. "Can't argue that." She slipped onto the stool. "Wanna know what I was doing while you were getting your rocks off?"


	15. Chapter 15

Harvey walked in the door after Donna had dropped him off, and was met with a rush of brunette distress. "Rachel, what's wrong?" Harvey asked, brows bent in a deep frown when he saw the concerned look on her face.

"Oh my god, Harvey, it's Monica," she half-wailed and buried her face against Harvey's chest. Her face was warm against the chill of his skin. (Donna hadn't let him put his regular clothes back on – not even his underwear, though she had given him his coat back.)

His frown deepened. "What happened to Monica?" Keeping his voice steady while Rachel was pressing closer to him was complicated.

Rachel sniffled. "That client... just – shit, Harvey, c'mon. You need to see for yourself." She stepped back and took his hand. She led him to a side room they sometimes used as an infirmary.

Rachel pushed the door open and tugged Harvey inside. He entered the room and, rather than stop short, he peeled Rachel's fingers from his hand and crossed to where Monica was sitting on the bed. Her face was purple and puffy. Her lip was split and at least one of her hands had skin scraped off the knuckles as though she'd punched someone and caught their teeth.

Harvey knelt in front of her, inspecting her mottled skin. He asked one of the ladies in the room to get more ice. Then he turned his full attention to Monica. "Who did this?" he asked, voice coldly calm. He already knew the answer, but wanted her to say it.

"That asshole, Tanner," Monica answered through gritted teeth. She winced when the movement aggravated the cut in her lip.

"Do you know what set him off?"

She shook her head. "This wasn't my fault."

"No. It's his." Harvey gingerly turned Monica's head to look at each of the wounds. "What did he want you to do that you refused?"

"It started as demands for no condoms." Monica took a shaky breath. "Then he wanted anal. Then fisting. It was like he was deliberately asking to break my limits to justify being angry."

Harvey nodded. Angry without letting it show. "Did you tell Daniel?"

Monica shook her head again. "He's the one who brought him to me. Told him I was his favorite and wouldn't have a problem satisfying him."

Someone returned with several ice packs. Harvey arranged them on Monica's face and arms. "Lie down if you need to. Get some rest. I'll have someone get something to take down the swelling. And I'll get you to a doctor if necessary."

"Thanks, Harvey. I'd like to sleep a bit."

He waved for the other ladies to take care of Monica – cleaning her up, getting her comfortable. _He_ was going to talk to Daniel.

* * *

"You would do well to watch your tone, Harvey," Hardman scolded him.

"I might if your shithead client wasn't abusing your employees," Harvey growled.

"You have no proof."

Harvey nearly spit nails. "I have your 'favorite' whore beaten to a pulp, likely with his DNA on her somewhere. Not to mention the five other reports from the house of him doing shady and slimy things. I think there's plenty of proof." Hardman was about to speak again, but Harvey didn't give him a chance. "More than that, I believe this violates the letter of the challenge between you and Jessica. There is no way he brings in new clientele after this."

"Oh, but there is," Daniel countered.

"Not if they're going to beat up my girls," Jessica countered right back as she entered Hardman's office.

Hardman's face soured. "You mean _our_ girls."

"No, Daniel. I mean _mine_. I have enough to buy you out right now. And I will. Since you seem to have a far different definition of safety and 'clean' clientele. Now, pack your shit and get the hell out. As soon as you leave, I'll have the buy-out wired to your account. And," she held up a cashier's check, "here's ten grand to get you the fuck out of my hair right now."

For a long moment, Harvey wasn't sure Hardman was going to take the deal. But, he reluctantly signed the papers Jessica presented him, packed a box of personal items, accepted the check, and exited the office. Harvey and Jessica both made sure he left the premises without taking anything – or anyone – else.

"How long have you been planning that?" Harvey asked as they stood, watching Hardman through the tinted picture window.

"About a year. Tanner's bullshit was the last straw." A pause. "Is Monica going to be okay?"

Harvey nodded. "Yeah. She'll be fine. How many clients are we going to lose?"

"None if you keep parading around in that sexy gladiator get-up." He could see her beginning to grin.

"Yeah? You think it should be the new uniform? We could do a whole re-branding."

"You're an idiot. Go put on some clothes and meet me in my office. We have some things to go over."

"I'm all a-twitter."

"Go, Harvey." She slapped him on the ass for encouragement.

* * *

Mike could tell something was different when he came to the brothel tonight. There was just something new. Or lighter. Or softer about the place. The ladies in the front room were smiling, but now it seemed effortless rather than semi-forced like the last time he'd been here.

"Hey, sugar," Rachel greeted him. She dragged a slender finger across his jaw as she passed.

"Uh – hi," he said back. Suddenly, he was having second thoughts about what he was doing.

Could he go through with it? Did he still want to? Had he really considered everything as thoroughly as he thought he had?

He stopped and leaned against the mantle over the fireplace. His head was reeling. He'd been so sure when he'd started over here. So sure, he hadn't even called for an appointment. Now his heart was threatening to make an _Alien_ -style escape. He needed to regroup.

With a few blinks and a shake of his head, he got his wits about him and realized one of the house residents was speaking to him.

"...okay? Do you need me to get someone?" It was Harold. Nice guy, but Mike wasn't sure how he ended up working here. He seemed like a smart kid who could be doing something more in line with his personality. But, maybe, like Harvey and Louis and Rachel, Harold really liked it here.

"Thanks, Harold. I'm fine," he said. It mostly wasn't a lie.

"Oh. Okay. Good. I'm not good at that sort of thing. So, are you here to see Harvey?" Harold shifted topics faster than Mike could keep up. "Because, if you are, he's not here. Well, I mean, he's here, but he's not working with clients tonight."

"Oh," Mike said, trying to keep both surprise and disappointment from his voice. He pulled himself together again and asked, "I know this is unusual, but is there any way I can get Harvey's home address?"

Harold looked terrified. "No way. Even if I could give you that, no one knows where Harvey lives. Not even Jessica." His voice had dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "And I'll pretend you didn't ask me that so we don't have to ban you."

"Yeah. Sorry. Thanks, Harold. Forget I asked."

It seemed odd, but Mike could understand why Harvey, being who he was, wouldn't want people knowing where he lived. Hell, he never should have asked for that information anyway. He'd put Harold in an awkward position. Himself too. It was a stupid move.

"Good night, Harold," he said and left the brothel.

Maybe this was better. He wasn't sure what he'd wanted to say anyway. Now he had time to get his thoughts together. Reset. Update his plan.

He went back home, but only long enough to get his bike. He needed some air. And his bike was the best way to get it. It also kept him out of the apartment for a bit.

He liked the wind in his hair and against his face as he rode through the city. There was also the car exhaust, but he was used to that. And this late in the evening, he could find creative ways to avoid most of it.

The ride was doing what he wanted – helping clear his head. He had to focus on riding, which let other thoughts slip into the background. He biked his way to his favorite little coffee shop in Brooklyn. He hadn't been there since moving in with Louis. And he kind of missed it.

The barista behind the counter nearly hurdled it when Mike walked in. "Holy shit! What's up, Mike? We thought you died," the barista said with a chuckle.

Mike laughed back and accepted the enthusiastic bear hug from Julius. The guy was built like a linebacker, but he loved working in the coffee shop. The artwork on the walls was mostly his, and the other two shops in the chain used his designs as well.

"Not dead. Out of touch and a little busy. What have I missed out on here?" He took a look around. "Aside from the new walls."

Julius smiled and slapped Mike's shoulder. "Just the art, man. But, let me get you one of my specialty coffees – on the house." He disappeared behind the counter to start working before Mike could object.

Mike slipped a one hundred dollar bill into the tip jar while Julius wasn't looking. Then took a seat at a table near the counter. He thought he'd picked this shop because he missed coming here – which he did – but, truthfully, he'd done it to avoid running into well-meaning people with their unsolicited advice. Their unwanted advice, really.

It was unlikely that Donna or Louis or one of a half-dozen other people who might stop in and insist on talking to him would be in this area. Normally, he wouldn't mind, but he was trying to work out some things. Again. And he needed a little time to himself. As much of it uninterrupted as possible.

He used to do his homework here. Even with the rush crowds, he could power through tons of reading. He'd give Julius a few minutes of 'catching up on life' time, but then he'd want the rest for himself.

Catching up with Julius was great. He was dating an amazing woman who worked at an investment firm and they were planning a vacation for the new year. A couple of customers came in, so Julius went back to work. Mike sipped his coffee – which was one of the most amazing things he'd ever tasted – and pondered his current situation.

He knew what he wanted. He thought he knew how to get it. But had he been wrong? Or had he just had bad timing? He figured it was the latter. He was almost positive his original idea would work. Probably better if he could find Harvey somewhere other than the brothel or out with a client.

Julius came over to check on Mike's coffee and asked what he was doing for Thanksgiving.

"Spending it with my grandmother."

"Why don't you come to my place? My folks are coming over. So's my sister. We'll have plenty of food. Bring your grandmother. It'll be great!"

The enthusiasm was infectious. "Sure. Okay. That sounds really good. Thanks, Julius.

* * *

It was the week after Thanksgiving and Rachel and Harold were putting up Christmas decorations. Monica and Hailey were putting up Hanukkah decorations. Harvey was helping string lights around the Christmas tree. Several others were helping with other decorations around the house. Everything was coming together nicely.

Jessica smiled as she passed through on the way to her office. She used to participate more in the holiday decorating, but since booting Daniel out, her workload had increased. Louis had taken over most of the financials, for which she was very grateful. And, though he would never admit to it, Harvey had taken on more of a mentor role with everyone. She liked that too.

The one thing Jessica would be doing was cooking their holiday dinner. Every year the people in her employ who had no specific plans for the holidays would be invited to dinner at the brothel. Prepared by Jessica. She wanted to make sure everyone had somewhere to go on Christmas. It had become tradition.

She looked up from her desk at the tap on her door. "Yes, Harvey?"

"Am I interrupting? I can come back."

She waved a hand. "Come on in, Harvey. What can I do for you?"

Harvey stepped in and took a seat across the desk from her. "How's it going?"

"Busy. Busier without Daniel. But I can handle it."

"I never said you couldn't." He leaned back comfortably. "Are you planning to bring on any more people?"

"We're always looking for new talent. Did you have someone in mind?"

He shook his head. "No. I'm just curious about what's going on in the business."

Jessica's eyebrows went up. "Since when?" Harvey hadn't shown interest in the business since his interview.

"I can have layers," he said. He sat up a little. "Seriously, Jessica, I bring in more revenue than anyone else here. I want a bigger stake."

"You know that involves more than just entertaining the clients, right? There are budgets and expenses and administrative tasks – many of which are not remotely exciting, but are all necessary," she explained.

He nodded. "I'm aware. I've been watching you for years, Jessica. Most of those, you were butting heads with Hardman. Why not work with someone more aligned with your vision?" He was working to sell his position pretty hard. Well, hard for Harvey.

She smirked. "You just pulled that out of your ass." He grinned back at her. "We'll see, Harvey. Let's get through the holidays, then we'll talk."

He nodded and rose from the chair. "Is there anything you need help with now?"

"No, Harvey. Thank you."

* * *

Christmas Eve was spent attending fancy parties with Donna. The woman was very social and very popular. Harvey wasn't ignored, but he didn't get nearly the attention Donna did. It was kind of nice being her arm candy.

Christmas Day was the traditional 'family' meal and exchanging of gifts at the brothel. Harvey had gone to visit his brother at Thanksgiving, so he didn't feel bad spending his Christmas in New York. He'd come to like Jessica's tradition. He'd even helped cook many years. This year, though, he'd been put in charge of the gift exchange. A fairly simple Secret Santa style affair. It let everyone have a gift without breaking any banks. He'd even coordinated the exchange with the employees who didn't celebrate Christmas to determine how they would be incorporated. It all worked out better than he'd thought it would.

Now it was time for New Year's Eve parties. Rather than venture out to one of the large parties around the city, Harvey had elected to attend Jessica's party at the brothel. Donna had another date for the evening, so he was left to make his own plans. This year, the decision was easy.

Since clients were invited, they would drink sparkling grape juice in place of champagne. No one seemed to mind. The party would be fun – just like every other year.

Guests began arriving around nine in the evening. It was invite-only, given the size of the house, so there was always someone stationed at the door to check.

"Harvey," Jessica greeted him as he came down the stairs. "I see you've chosen my party again. Is there something I need to know?"

"Yes. I'm stalking you. It's weird," he answered with a grin. "My usual date is otherwise occupied tonight."

"Well, then, enjoy the party, Harvey," she told him.

He grinned at her. "Thank you." Then he moved off to find a drink and talk with some of the guests.

* * *

Mike wasn't sure how he'd gotten an invite to the New Year's Eve party at the brothel, but he had. And it helped him make up his mind what he would be doing for the holiday. Jenny was a little disappointed that he couldn't bring a plus-one, though she did understand why.

He arrived at the party closer to eleven than he'd planned, but between figuring out what to wear and holiday traffic in Manhattan, he was a little delayed. It didn't seem to matter to the lovely lady at the door taking the invitations.

Mike entered the main sitting room and was greeted with glittering twinkle-lights and music playing at a volume loud enough to hear for dancing, but not so loud that yelling was required to speak to someone. He found himself a drink, then struck up a conversation with someone about bicycle maintenance.

He still wasn't sure that this wasn't a horrible idea. But, he had time to back out if he changed his mind. Right now, he mingled with the guests and waited for midnight.

It was only an hour, but he wavered between 'this is taking forever' and 'how did ten minutes pass already' the whole time. A few minutes before midnight, he found Harvey. He'd mostly avoided him while he'd drummed up his courage. And, so he didn't appear over-zealous.

"Mike," Harvey said, surprised. That was expected. His lurking in plain sight plan had worked out pretty well.

"Hi, Harvey," he said back. He glanced at the clock and took a flute of sparkling grape juice from a passing tray carried by one of the ladies he recognized. "It's almost midnight."

"That is how days work."

Mike smirked and downed half of his drink. "I know that."

"Why are you here, Mike?"

"I was invited." He finished his drink and set the flute aside. Harvey started to walk away, but Mike curled his fingers around Harvey's arm. "Wait." Harvey turned back expectantly.

The clock was ticking down. Mike heard the whole of the room pick up the last ten seconds. He didn't let it get past 'four' before he pulled Harvey in for a long, slow kiss; his mouth pressed hard against Harvey's. And he didn't let him go. He held the kiss through the remainder of the countdown and as long into the New Year as he could manage.

Harvey didn't jerk away or make Mike stop. Mike was pleasantly surprised to feel Harvey kissing him back. Kissing him deeper. Until he had to pull away to breathe properly.

"Mike..."

"Shut up, Harvey." He held close, his forehead resting against Harvey's. Then he kissed him again. He had no plans to let him go.

The kiss drew to its natural close and Harvey leaned back a bit. As much as Mike's hold would allow. "You know I don't date clients."

"I'm not a client, Harvey," Mike countered. At Harvey's raised eyebrow, Mike said, "I know you never took that payment for the one time I came here with money."

Harvey shrugged. "I had to do something. You were so pathetic that night."

"Shut up. I was not." He kissed Harvey again. He couldn't help it. He'd been wanting to kiss him since that first night. Now that he finally had the chance, he wasn't giving it up.

Harvey pulled back during a break in the kissing. "You know there are some things we need to talk about..."

"You're a whore and you're not giving it up. I got it. I'm on board. We'll talk more later." Then he roped Harvey into another long, slow kiss.

Once the party began to die down, Mike tugged Harvey toward a vacant couch and took a seat. Harvey was right. They did need to talk.

"Look, the sex worker thing may take some getting used to, but if you're honest with me, I don't see a problem," Mike said.

"Are you sure? I've had people tell me that before." Harvey looked mildly concerned, but nothing more than that.

"Can we please talk about this tomorrow?"

Harvey nodded and leaned in to kiss Mike. Mike melted into it. He'd been imagining this for so long, he was afraid it wouldn't measure up. But Harvey's mouth was firm and sure, while also being gentle and warm. It matched what he had learned about Harvey through their few interactions. Even though they'd mostly been business transactions, he knew some of it was real.

He kissed Harvey until long past midnight. Until Rachel tapped him on the shoulder and told them they should go somewhere else. People were beginning to watch them now that the party was dying down.

Mike smiled slyly at Rachel. Then he turned back to Harvey. "Any ideas?"

"We could go to your place," Harvey said with a surprisingly straight face.

Mike smirked. "I'm going to assume you're either not serious or you've forgotten where I live."

Harvey grinned and gave Mike a quick kiss. "Come on. We'll go upstairs." At Mike's withering look, he added. "You don't earn a trip to my house just because you kissed me on New Year's Eve. Now, come on."


	16. Chapter 16

Harvey led Mike upstairs and ushered him inside. He pushed the door closed and, this time, he locked it. It was typically against the rules, but he didn't think Jessica would mind. Not tonight.

He watched Mike trying to figure out what was going on. Harvey waved to one of the chairs. "Sit down, Mike." He took a seat in the other chair. "I know you wanted to wait, but we can't. I can't. We have to talk about this now."

"Why?" Mike asked with a pout.

"Because I've had too many relationships go sideways because they didn't really understand my job," Harvey explained. He felt it was better to approach this first thing rather than wait until they'd established something. It hurt a lot more to break it off later over things they could discuss up front.

Mike nodded. "I might have a better idea than you think."

"Because of Trevor?" The look on Mike's face answered his question. "He came here a couple months ago. He told me about a 'friend's roommate'."

"Why?"

Harvey shrugged. "I guess he thought it would make me reject you so you'd go back to him."

Mike let out a snort. "Fat chance. I may not think of Louis as my best friend, but he doesn't pimp me out to random strangers just to pay the rent." There was venom in his voice.

"I'm glad you got out, Mike. Even if this doesn't go anywhere, or doesn't last. I'm glad you got away."

"Me too." He looked down at his feet. "It's because of you, you know. You treated me like a person, like I mattered. Even if you thought I didn't, you treated me well. And very few people in my life, beyond my grandmother, have done that."

"You do matter, Mike. And not just to me."

"Thanks, Harvey," Mike said sincerely. Then he asked, "So, what else do I need to understand about your job?"

"I love it," Harvey answered simply. "I appreciate all of my clients. I engage with them on very personal and very intimate levels. And when I'm at work, I'm working. I'm not hitting on people and trying to get dates. There will be times after work where I will have absolutely no interest in sex. If any of that is going to be a problem, now is the time to leave."

Mike shook his head. "I've thought about this a lot. I even came here the other day when you were out to tell you, but, instead of waiting, I went home and thought about it some more. I really do want to try this. And I know who and what you are. If that was a problem, I'd already be gone."

"Okay." He rose from his chair. "Then, come on, we'll get some sleep and work out some things in the morning."

He could tell Mike wasn't thrilled with this plan, but Harvey knew what he was doing. Getting Mike to sleep on the idea, and not having sex, would let him see the situation in the sober light of day. If Mike still thought it was a good idea and that he was willing to accept Harvey's profession, they'd have a better chance of the relationship working out.

Mike curled up on the bed. He snuggled his way as close to Harvey as he could get. Harvey nudged him and told him to at least get out of his pants and shoes. Settled in bed, Harvey watched Mike drift off pretty quickly, his head resting on Harvey's chest. That was the moment Harvey realized his life was about to get more complicated.

* * *

"Wait, Mike, where are we going?" Harvey asked as Mike nearly dragged him out of the brothel the next morning.

They'd woken up fairly early and discussed some of those things Harvey had mentioned the night before. Harvey still wasn't entirely sure Mike knew what he was getting into, but Mike was adamant about not giving up.

"I promised my grandmother I'd take her to brunch," Mike said, still tugging Harvey along behind him.

"Okay. But that doesn't explain why I have to come along. It's a bit early to be meeting your family."

Mike laughed, big smile on his face. "I'm not going to tell her you're my boyfriend. Just a friend. She's still pissed at me about Trevor."

"Speaking of Trevor, if I ever see him again, I'm going to beat the shit out of him."

"Yeah, don't do that," Mike said, his voice quavering for the first time in a long time when talking about Trevor.

Harvey reached for Mike's arm. "Mike, that man is not your friend. Let him go."

"I've known him since I was three..."

"And he's probably been using you just as long. Cut him loose. He's not worth the pain and anxiety."

Mike sighed. "Can we talk about Trevor later? We're late to pick up my grandmother."

"Fine. But we're taking my car."

"You have a car?"

"Of course," Harvey said with a smirk as a sleek black towncar pulled up to the curb and a driver stepped out to open the door.

"Show off."

* * *

As they were settling in at their table for brunch, Grammy started in with the questions. Just like Mike had known she would. "So, Harvey, how did you meet Michael?" Grammy asked and Mike immediately wanted to crawl under the table.

The question didn't seem to faze Harvey at all. "We met at a work function. He was the guest of one of our clients."

Mike relaxed a little. Harvey's answer, while vague, was true. He never would have been able to come up something that quickly. But, he figured, Harvey's been doing this for a long time. He probably had prepared answers for all of life's mundane type questions.

"So, is Michael one of your clients now?"

Harvey lowered his juice glass and managed to show no shock or fear at all. "No. Our business interests are different, but we kept in touch."

"Good. Michael needs more friends." Mike knew she wanted to say something scathing about Trevor. Mike had asked her not to bring him up.

"You can never have too many friends," Harvey said, then looked relieved when the waiter arrived to take their order.

Once the waiter had stepped away, Mike turned to his grandmother. "Grammy, I'm really sorry I haven't been over to see you more often. But I've started my own business and have a new place to live, so I'll be able to see you more."

"Now, Michael, you know I know it was all that boy's doing. But, if you're away from there, and safe, then I'll feel better," Grammy told him firmly, patting him on the hand.

"He's actually sharing a place with one of my co-workers," Harvey offered. "It's a nice place in a good part of town."

"And there's a burly bar bouncer who lives down the hall and likes me enough to pretend to be building security if the need arises."

Grammy had looked skeptical until the part about the bouncer. "Well, good. As long as you're safe."

"Of course, Grammy." Mike leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.

Fortunately for Harvey, Grammy didn't grill him too hard. Brunch was delicious. And they had a lovely walk the couple blocks back to the facility where Grammy lived. They said their good-byes and Grammy told Harvey to keep an eye on Mike because he needed more good friends.

Sufficiently embarrassed, Mike gave Grammy another kiss on the cheek, then he and Harvey left the room. They were silent until they were back on the sidewalk outside.

"Your grandmother is an..." Harvey paused, apparently searching for the right word, "...interesting woman."

Mike grinned. "She's raised me since I was eleven. She's the only family I have left." It felt both good and terrifying to share that. Even with someone he'd seen naked.

"I guess she did okay – given what she had to work with."

"Fuck you, Harvey," but he was grinning still. He was beginning to figure out that Harvey only teased people he respected and liked. In a way, it was oddly affectionate. And not as mean-spirited as it seemed on the surface.

Angry Harvey came later. The day they were walking in Central Park and stopped for hot dogs at one of the vendors. As they were looking for a place to enjoy their lunch, they spotted Trevor. Harvey was willing to let him pass without incident at Mike's urging. Trevor, however, had no such inclination.

That was when Mike got to witness Harvey's verbal evisceration tactics first hand.

"But if you..."

"Shut up!" Harvey snarled. "There is nothing you could say that would justify what you did. The only reason you aren't currently behind bars is because that would be too good for you."

Trevor wasn't sure how to respond, but stumbled over, "W – how do you mean?"

Harvey's face was hard. "You don't deserve the luxury of my tax dollars feeding and sheltering your miserable manipulative ass. Now, get the hell out of my face. And stay away from Mike and my place of business. Because if I see you around either again, I'm going to beat the shit out of you."

Mike could tell Trevor was terrified and trying not to show it. Harvey hadn't even laid a hand on him. "Where – look – where do I even go?"

"I don't care, as long as I never see you again."

Mike knew what Trevor really meant. He reached into a pocket to pull out some cash. Harvey stopped him.

"No, Mike. He is never getting another dime from you." Harvey drew a stack of bills from his own pocket and counted off several. He handed them to Trevor. "Get the hell out of my city."

Trevor tried, halfheartedly, to stand his ground, but thought better of it, took the money, and walked away. Mike watched him go, a little sad. Trevor was his oldest friend. But, at the same time, the man had used him for personal gain and amusement. Mike needed to learn how to not let Trevor manipulate him. The first several days, maybe weeks, would be hard. But, now he had Harvey to lean on.

Harvey sighed as he took his hot dog back from Mike. "Dammit, now it's cold."

Mike had to laugh.

* * *

Riding in the back of the towncar, Mike watched the city glide by the windows. "Where are we going?" Mike asked, a decided whine in his tone.

"You'll see," Harvey repeated for, at least, the fifth time.

The car pulled up in front of a highrise and the driver came around to open the door. Harvey stepped out, then poked his head in to tell Mike to get out.

"We must be in the wrong place," Mike said, staring up at the façe;ade of the building as he got out of the car.

"Why's that?"

"You said you were taking me to dinner."

"I am." Harvey started for the building entrance.

"Okay." Mike responded, skepticism oozing from the single word. "Is there a restaurant on the roof or something?" He kept staring slack-jawed around the interior of the lobby.

Harvey tugged gently on his arm. "Close your mouth. This way."

The elevator ride wasn't overly long, but it covered several floors quickly. Possibly an express to the upper levels. Mike was too busy watching Harvey to notice the lighted indicator for the floors they were passing.

The doors opened and Mike peered into the corridor. "Where the hell are we?" Mike asked, half-stumbling off the elevator car.

Harvey sighed and used a set of keys from his pants pocket to unlock a door. He waved Mike inside.

Mike dazedly walked through the door and to the right. He shuffle-stepped past the kitchen counter and clumsy-ed his way into the living room area. Then it finally dawned on him.

"Wait! This – this is your place. That place that no one's ever been? Whoa! Am I the first person you've ever brought here? Wow! This place is amazing. Hey – are those real?"

Harvey leaned against the counter until the whirlwind stopped. Then he answered each of Mike's questions: "Yes. Not 'no one'. No. It is. Yes, they are." He retrieved an autographed baseball from Mike's hand and set it back on it's designated shelf.

Mike moved around a bit more, exploring the open areas, but not breaching any closed doors. "Hey, I thought you were taking me to dinner."

"I am," he said again and gestured to the dining table around the corner from the fireplace where a stunning gentleman was effortlessly setting items out on the table.

"What, you don't want to be seen in public with me?" Mike teased.

"Actually, I was going to cook, but i had three walk-ins, so I had to make other arrangements. Don't worry, Arnaud only poisons people who insult his food."

Harvey directed Mike to the table and they both sat. Arnaud finished his tasks and bid them good night. The food was delicious. The conversation was warm and casual. And, for Harvey, for the first time in a long time, felt natural.

"Does this happen to you a lot?" Mike asked as he took a seat on the couch after dinner.

"What?" Harvey asked back, pouring drinks at a small bar.

"Walk-ins when you're ready to go home."

Harvey handed one tumbler to Mike on his way to the nearby chair. He sat and folded one leg over the other. "Not as often as you'd think. But it does happen." Harvey sipped his drink. "I have a good number of regular clients, but a large part of my business comes from one-off clients. Some people come to the brothel and don't have a preference. We have a couple who are trying to fill a bingo card." He grinned at Mike's confused frown. "To sleep with everyone who works there."

"Ah. Aren't there like fifty of you?"

"Something like that." He sipped his drink again.

"How do you separate it? There from... here?"

Harvey took a moment to put together an answer. "Work stays at work. And it's the nature of my business to not get emotionally attached to the clients. And, to realize when they may be getting too unhealthily attached to me."

"How often does that happen? I mean, I don't want you to break any confidentiality or anything..."

"Not that often. And, if you know the warning signs, you can cut them off before it gets that far." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, drink between his hands. "Look, Mike, I know this is a lot and if you think it's going to be too much..."

"No, sorry. I'm asking a bunch of questions about your job and not really about you." Mike looked a little chagrined by that fact. It was sweet.

Harvey's mouth twitched and he sipped his drink. "It's not the first time."

"Right. Of course. So, you know about me, right? Dead parents, Grammy, Trevor, my sweet new gig."

"What is that, by the way?"

"I make instructional videos for taking college entrance tests – LSAT, MCAT." Mike's chest puffed up as he spoke. "I remember things really well. Some people call it a photographic memory, but it's not nearly that simple. Anyway, it lets me see patterns and I used that to make courses that I sell online."

Harvey sat back in his chair again. "I knew you'd read the rules," he commented with a smirk.

"I read everything. But the videos are doing so well, I could give up my bike messenger job and be comfortable.

"You're still a bike messenger?"

Mike shrugged. "I like riding my bike. The messenger job is riding with a purpose."

Harvey could only grin and shake his head.

They talked through their first drink, and a second. Then they moved to Harvey's media room to watch a movie, that they didn't actually watch much of because they started a new conversation about movies they'd seen, wanted to see, and had decided weren't worth their time.

It was great conversation and they fell asleep on the couch once their energy ran out. Harvey woke to the menu screen for the movie they'd put in and Mike leaning on his shoulder. He turned off the TV, settled against the couch, and went back to sleep


End file.
